Masters of War
by Servatia
Summary: The events on Inquisition have an impact on more than the few people we meet during the storyline. Fates interweave, bringing the Warden and a few other unexpected visitors to Skyhold. Can stand alone as an AU (details in Chapter 2), but is written as a sequel to By Any Other Name and Saving Us. The Inquisitor is a mage Lavellan. Rated M like the predecessors because of reasons.
1. It's the Fear

_((Title's taken from a Bob Dylan song, although in my head I always hear the Flying Pickets._

_The first chapter mainly serves to tie loose ends, at least some. It will all make more sense later. You know me. There'll be a more thorough A/N in the next chapter. Next update may take a while, but I need the start out of my system._

_This first chapter is a bit opaque. If you know who the people are (you only have a chance if you've read at least one of the novels and my two other Dragon Age texts ), have fun! If not, you'll find out eventually._

_Regarding timeline, this chapter is mostly pre-Inquisition, the next just after Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts. The second bit is a little later than the first, the third already very close to the actual text._

_Romance (well, one) is marked and will be addressed in the next A/N. If you take offence, hold it tight and leave with it._

_Chapter heading is a Within Temptation song. I do think it fits all three people.))_

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><p>Chapter 1<p>

It's the Fear

He wanted to gasp for much needed air, but he couldn't. He might be heard. It was as it had been the first time he was on the run, only different. Then, he had nothing to lose. If he'd been caught, he'd have died without much of a fight. Now, he had a reason to throw all he had to whoever came for him. He'd give them a fight they'd never forget. Even if it was a Templar. He'd learned things that would surprise even them. The bundle cradled in his arms was trembling so badly he wondered if she was ill. 'Daddy, please,' the soft voice whispered, making him ache inside.

'Quiet. You've got to be quiet.' _Or we're both dead._ He didn't say that, hardly allowed himself to think it. Too close, the steps moved past him. His heart was beating so hard a more irrational man might fear that it would betray them. For no matter who they were, templars or rebel mages, they were enemies. He was a traitor either way. 'Listen,' he said, brushing the dark hair out of her face with a shaking hand. 'We're going … we're going to hide. Thank the Maker my clothes don't scream mage.' In fact, they screamed warrior. Someone who knew business would see that the leather covering him hid mail, and the sword at his side would all but fly into his hand at a thought. There was also a very small dagger.

'But …' He shook his head and pressed his lips against her forehead.

'No. Listen. My name is Levyn.'

'Your name is …'

'Please! Look … these people, they want to hurt you. And me, too. And we need to hide.' He swallowed, forced himself to smile. 'We'll play pretend. I am Levyn. You are Ally.'

'Will Mom come?' The question made him want to give in to the pain and sit back and cry. He couldn't. Not now. They had fought before he had left to fetch the frightened girl. Who she called Mom had wanted to keep him safe, but he had sworn to protect the poor kid with his life. In the end, he'd received a watery kiss, a plea to stay alive, and the whispered compliment that he had turned from a coward into a true protector. He found himself pretty craven, scared as he was. But he was trying.

'I … not now, my love. But she's all right.' _Maker, please, let her be all right._ 'She's in Haven. She'll come when she can.'

'But if we hide …'

'Hey,' he interrupted her again, smiling for real this time. 'We're going to pretend to be peasants, but we're still mages. Never forget it.'

'I can't use any magic, can I?'

'I'll keep teaching you, but we've both got to be very, very careful.'

'If I don't learn, a demon will take me.'

'They told you that, did they?'

'Yes. I can't heal anything.' He nearly laughed. She didn't have his blood, but she was sometimes very much like him.

'I know the feeling. You'll learn, my darling. Be patient. Where we're going, there are no other mages and no templars. Just us. And Mommy … she'll find us. And if she doesn't, we'll find her. But for now, we've got to vanish. To the world, we're dead, you and I, burning bodies back at the Tower. We're Levyn and Ally. Your Mom, we'll tell them, died when our farm was destroyed by … by apostates. Yes, they'll believe that willingly enough.'

'Will I go back to the Circle?'

'What Circle? The one that just got torn apart? No, my sweet, you're staying with me now. Whatever it takes, I'll never let anyone hurt you.'

'Aisling and Anders …' He shook his head, refusing to let their fates really get through to him just yet. His two best friends had done all they could to give him time to run with the child. They had paid with their lives, the image of Anders's burnt face and Aisling's head flying away while her body slumped to the ground forever branded into his memory.

'They're gone, love. I couldn't stop it. They're gone.'

Ϡ

A voice screaming havoc in her head, a voice that should not be there. A voice that had stolen half her friends. A voice that tried to force her into despair.

But she could not give in. Not when the one she loved might well be in captivity or worse. Until she set that right, she had to be strong, even when everyone else was gone, had scattered to the winds; to Kirkwall; to the breaking Circle of Ferelden; to wherever this thing was luring them – not to give in, but to destroy it if they could; to the Temple of Sacred Ashes. When they were all gone and she was almost alone, the letters, promised to arrive one per day, had ceased. Coincidence? Oh no. Maker have mercy on whose fault it was, because she most certainly would not. She released the prisoner they'd kept for too long. He looked up, stared at her, disbelief clear on his face.

'You can go. Whatever you looked for in Vigil's Keep, it's not here. Go away.'

And now, for the first time, he spoke, his voice low and deep. 'I believed I would be executed. Or left to starve.'

She shook her head and glanced at the letter still clutched in her hand; the last one she'd received, too long ago. 'I don't know who you are. Maker, I don't even know _what_ exactly you are. All I know is that I need to go to Kirkwall.'

For a moment, the elf frowned and he looked almost eager. Then his shoulders slumped forwards and he swallowed. 'Thank you, Warden Commander. I hope you find what you seek there. I know I did not.'

Ϡ

'We need help.' They both knew it, but so far, she hadn't uttered the words.

'Why? Everyone gets kids.' Denial, then. A mage should never allow himself denial, but it was so easy. For a mage as much as anyone else. As much as for a templar.

'Not everyone's addicted to lyrium! That aside, if the wrong people find out just who and what we are … I can't even think of it.'

The fight bled out of her friend and lover, giving way to a deep desperation. His arms came around her, pulling her close. 'And where do you suggest we find that help?' The words were muttered into her neck.

She pulled away and their eyes met, the answer already there. 'We both know from whom. And we both know where he is.'


	2. A Man of Sorrows

_((Spoilers for the novel _Asunder_, all DA games, and for my two previous texts on them (_By Any Other Name_ and _Saving Us_)._

_I'll direct you to a link with a short discourse on one of the pairings (the marked one) I'll be building towards: www. fanfiction story/story_edit_property. php?storyid=10900805 (without the spaces). I also want to add that I will very likely add a slash pairing at one point._

_On the AU: I continue where I left off with _Saving Us_. When I started that, DA:II was a long way away. When I ended, I did that with a minute allusion to it that no-one is likely to find and that I picked up in the previous chapter. So while I got some things right (Tranquility can be undone – although I did it differently; but as that awful saying goes, there's more than one way to skin a cat), some I can hardly leave as they are without saying anything or twisting things a little._

_So can this stand alone?_

_Yes, absolutely. Either let it surprise you or read the bold text ahead._

**_Here's the deal if you have not read _****Saving Us_ and want to know what is different:_**

**_At the end, Jowan was no longer Tranquil (which I assume his fate was) but a Grey Warden._**

**_A hardened Leliana was in Amaranthine, training recruits, after her journey to the Donarks (very high up North on a Thedas map. It's there!) – see next paragraph._**

**_Morrigan died, having gone and killed the remaining Old Gods with help (my Warden Núria Tabris, Zevran, Leliana, and Jowan). Potentially problematic, this is one of the things where the AU comes in because I won't go and resurrect her with some ridiculous deus ex machina._**

**_Jowan and Leliana raised Morrigan's Old God kid Darya until she showed magic at the age of about five. Then the kid went to the Tower. Oh, and Morrigan killed the human part of the kid because two souls in one person would be a problem._**

**_Alistair caught a spell gone wrong – the first spell from Darya, as it were – and lost his mind as a result. He ended his life childless a while later, leaving Ferelden to an Anora probably beyond her child-bearing years._**

**_Zevran never became a Warden but remained with Núria. He also never went to the Free Marches during DA:II, spending his time killing Gods instead and helping to raise a mage child. He went later, I decided in the previous chapter._**

**_Anders never went at all. Justice flitted back into the Fade or something (I've got a vague idea, but I'm not sure I'll do that). Anders was a bit sick by the end, but nothing too worrisome. Doesn't matter. Could be any mage in DA:II, no? So this is just AU._**

**_The whole point of Morrigan's grand plan was to stop future blights. Also, no calling they hear can possibly be real. Remember that dwarf in _****Awakening_, Utah? That ex-Warden with the Architect? Not dying? Not mad? Should be like that for them all, I figured, if you kill off the source. No?_**

_Building on this should be interesting, but certainly not impossible._

_As far as I remember, I left off a few years after _Awakening_, so I should have time for the complete breakdown of all Circles. If not, please consider the inaccuracy part of the AU. I want my universe. Period. I did notice a problem with my timeline (the last chapter covers too long a period to continue here), I will change it when I get there.  
><em>

_Chapter heading's an indirect quote since I am thinking of Händel's _Messiah_.))_

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><p>Chapter 2<p>

A Man of Sorrows

The Winter Palace, all things considered, had been a disaster. Lenkala had expected worse, being Dalish and a mage on top of that, but still, it had been a complete and utter disaster and she was still half surprised they were all alive.

Taking the Grand Duchess Florianne captive and dragging her to Skyhold hadn't been anywhere near as satisfying as one might think. Sitting in judgement was probably Lenkala's least favourite part of being Inquisitor. Fighting demons she could deal with. Getting so many different people in line was challenging, but fun at times. But this … she tried to be merciful, and she usually was, but this woman … What else than have her executed could she do?

The idea formed suddenly, and she smiled at the thought. 'Inquisitor!' She closed her eyes briefly and halted.

'Yes?'

The bard caught up with her and guided her to the side of the room. 'I … need to ask you a favour. A friend of mine sent a letter that … a common friend of ours is missing in the Free Marches. I can spare the resources to look for him, if you allow it.'

Lenkala blinked. 'And you're asking for permission why?'

Leliana smiled. 'Because technically, they're your spies. But point taken. Thank you.'

'Do you have a way out of this judgement sitting business?'

The bard snorted. 'Sorry. No. I don't envy you for that bit. Not that I envy you for any other part of it.' She frowned. 'If you've got a moment after that trial, I'd like to talk about the apostate from the Winter Palace.'

Lenkala tilted her head. 'Are you going to tell me why you reacted as if you'd seen a ghost when we ran into him?'

Leliana raised her hands in an almost defiant gesture. 'What shall I say … I think it's time I level with you, and if I do, this … this apostate is someone else that needs explaining. I'll ask him to join us, too.' She looked at the Inquisitor with a small, almost shy smile. 'I … think I need someone to know the whole truth, and you've become a real friend to me. Perhaps … that's naïve. Is it?'

'No. I'm very curious what this is going to be.' Lenkala licked her lips. 'We can do that now, can't we? Let someone else handle that damn duchess and chat about your old friends and apostates?'

Leliana's eyes narrowed and she leaned closer. 'You wish,' she whispered. 'Off you go. Give her hell.'

Ϡ

While Josephine announced the duchess, Lenkala watched the hall. Everyone was there with the notable exception of the apostate fresh from Orlais, her closer friends near the throne. Even Cole had come, skulking at the door to the undercroft, not quite as invisible as he'd been just a short while ago. Varric leaned against the wall near him, keeping an eye on the young man. Dorian looked almost thrilled for whatever reason. The rest was just curious what she'd do with the noble woman but more or less neutral.

The door at the far end banged open, but it wasn't the guards with Florianne that came in. Instead, a tall slim figure wrapped into a cloak approached, their head hooded, not an inch of skin visible. What was visible was the hilt of what might be a very huge, very deadly sword behind their back. They crossed the rapidly silent hall with long, hard strides. The two guards next to Lenkala's throne tensed but remained still. 'Where is he?' the stranger asked, identifying the person as a male.

Lenkala opened her mouth and closed it. 'Where is ... who exactly?'

'Where is …' The last word drowned in the electrical crackling of a spell. The stranger had started up the stairs, but before the guards could so much as draw their swords, a spell had caught him in mid-step and yanked him backwards. His hood was whipped from his face, revealing an elf.

As if the situation wasn't bizarre enough, several things happened at once after the man's face was revealed. Varric, Cullen, a very young guardsman, and Dorian started towards the man in unison. The guard crossed into the cage the spell – Dorian's, Lenkala assumed – had created despite Cullen's shout to halt, sword drawn and ready to cut the unprepared man in half. Lenkala and Varric yelled their protest, but before the shout had died on their lips, the elf glowed in an eerie light and the guardsman fell dead to the ground. Lenkala's confusion peaked when the elf threw himself into the cage, struggling against the spell in a desperate and futile attempt to grab Dorian.

Cullen followed the dead man's example and stepped inside the cage. He didn't draw, however. He positioned himself between Dorian and the elf, hands outstretched as if to keep them apart but unwilling to attack either of them. The mage was unleashing a harsh stream of what could only be Tevene, the face of the elf contorted with pure hatred as he spat out the same language. Blood was running from his nose after his mad attempt to get past the barrier. Varric tried to talk him down, it seemed, and Cullen, at last, looked to Lenkala.

'Stop it, all of you, right now!' Her yell drowned in the voices of the three men involved in the shouting match and the noise of Dorian's slowly faltering spell. Letting her anger take form, Lenkala grabbed her staff, which leaned against the throne, and slammed it into the ground hard.

The ensuing clap of thunder, loud enough to make her ears ring, was enough to silence everyone for the second time in less than a minute. 'Stop. Right. Now.' Her voice was quiet but firm. 'Cullen, seize this man. Hold his hands tight.' She'd seen what he'd done to the guard, but how was beyond her. She strode towards the elf, now standing meekly with his hands behind his back, held there by the templar. 'Who are you?'

'Vishante kaffas.'

These words were the only Tevene she had bothered to learn from Dorian, and they weren't a name. 'Dorian, who is this man?' The mage pursed his lips.

'I haven't the faintest idea.'

'You just yelled at a random visitor? I don't think so. What's he doing here?'

Dorian shot her a half smile. 'I haven't the faintest idea.' Something on Lenkala's face must have shown that she wasn't in the mood for this particular kind of humour, and he continued. 'I thought he was going to attack you, the way he started towards the throne, and your guards weren't moving.'

'Sorry if I interrupt this,' Varric said in a deliberately calm tone. 'Perhaps I can help out. This is Fenris. Oh, don't look at me as if I'd told her a dirty secret, it's just your name. Cullen and I know him from Kirkwall. Ah, how do I say this? Well … Dorian … I think you should leave.'

Dorian's eyes went wide. 'Excuse me?'

Varric sighed. 'Just until we've all calmed down a little and I've had a moment to explain to my friend just why a mage from Tevinter is my friend, too. Please.'

'Let me think … er … no.'

'Dorian stays,' Lenkala said. She had enough of this. Only a few days ago she had almost strangled the chantry woman she'd allowed to stay in her herb garden for suggesting – again! – that she sent the mage away just because of what he was. He was part of the Inquisition. End of story. 'Can this person talk?'

'He can,' Cullen said. 'Fenris, I think I know why you're here, and you're not helping your cause.'

At last, Fenris directed his baleful stare from Varric to her. 'Where is Hawke?' The words came in a forced calm Lenkala didn't buy. 'I know he was here. Where is he now?'

'Venhedis,' Dorian said, then bit his lower lip. 'And there's more truth in that than you'd think.'

'I am not asking _you_.'

Lenkala raised her hands. 'The next person who is unable to keep up a civil conversation is sent to the jail overnight.'

'You want me to be civil? Treat me like a person and not like a dog.'

'You killed one of my guards.'

'In all fairness, Lenka, your guard attacked first and without provocation. The poor soul just defended himself.' Both Lenkala and Fenris stared at Dorian, who shrugged. 'Just saying.'

She frowned. 'Yeah. True. If Cullen lets you go, will you rip my heart out? Or Dorian's?'

'No,' the elf grated.

She nodded to Cullen who seemed glad he could release Fenris. 'Right. Now … Hawke. Hawke was here, but he's gone.' Fenris tensed visibly but didn't seem to want to attack. 'I fear that he is dead, but I can't know. We … went to the Fade and he volunteered to stay behind. He … is the only reason that we're having this conversation. He sacrificed himself for the rest of us.' Fenris's eyes closed. He wandered to the nearest chair and slumped into it. 'I … am sorry,' Lenkala said. When the elf remained silent she looked at Dorian. 'You addressed him in Tevene. Why?'

Dorian gave a small, humourless laugh. 'I don't know how to explain that in one sentence.'

Lenkala's patience had worn out the moment the guard had died. 'Dorian, I'm warning you. Talk. You've got as many sentences as you need.'

The Tevinter mage closed his eyes and sighed. 'Let me put it that way,' he said slowly. 'I … was supposed to marry the daughter … or was it the niece, I forgot … of a certain magister who liked to experiment. He told my father about some of his projects, you see. He was quite proud of them. He experimented on various slaves, a lot of them died. One of these experiments … involved lyrium and creating the ultimate weapon. I remember that he eventually said that with one of the slaves he kept for special purposes he had finally succeeded.'

'Special purposes?' Lenkala asked, feeling a nagging suspicion forming in her mind. Dorian made a face.

'He didn't elaborate, and my father didn't ask. Neither did I. I was younger and more naïve than now, you see, and sometimes I preferred not to know everything.' A slow smile formed on Dorian's face. 'To the best of my knowledge, said magister is dead now. I must admit, he had it coming.'

Again, Fenris looked at Dorian with considerable scepticism, but he remained silent.

'Anything to add?' Lenkala prompted.

'Danarius is dead. Yes.'

Dorian merely shrugged. He glanced at the elf with something between pain and intrigue. 'You must be in constant pain. I can't even begin to imagine it. And I know … I know what sort of person Danarius was.' He looked at Lenkala again. 'You know, he looked right through me. Suggested I marry his … whatever she was, said I could always keep a few slaves on the side since they had no right to object to my advances.' Dorian's upper lip curled in obvious repulsion. 'Short version, this man here is a symbol of everything that's not right in Tevinter.'

Lenkala looked back at Fenris. 'Hawke and you …' When no reaction came, she looked at Varric instead.

'Yeah,' the dwarf said simply. 'Fenris … I don't know what to say.'

'There is nothing left to say.'

'There is.' Lenkala stood. 'Josie, see that Fenris gets quarters as soon as this Florianne business is done with.' The Antivan took a quick note and nodded. 'I will not put you in jail but someone will keep an eye on you for the moment. Dorian … you and Solas put your heads together. I want … I want to know what happened to Hawke. I've wanted to know right away, and now I'm done staying in the dark. Perhaps that apostate's got something useful to say, too, since he insisted to come here.' She huffed. 'I'll join you in the fun. And bring Vivienne, too.' She looked to Fenris again. 'I'll let you know whatever I find out.' All she got was a nod. Lenkala made a vague gesture in Cullen's general direction. 'Well, bring that woman.'

'She's already here,' one of the guards said. They had retreated away from the hassle with her. When they had come in was beyond her, but considering what had happened, it was not so surprising she had missed something so trivial.

Lenkala settled in her throne again and looked at the stunned woman. 'Not quite like an Orlesian ball, no? Any regrets?' It was clear that the woman had none. When she'd had her say, Lenkala did what she'd thought she might. It had been just a wild idea, but after the appearance of the stranger she was irritable enough to go through with it. 'You know … I think you can do with some fresh air and a little bit of humility. You'll work at a farm. And make no mistake, you'll be watched.'

'You are willing to treat that animal better than me?' the noble woman spat.

'You know, if he hadn't been attacked in the first place I doubt anything worse than me getting my feathers ruffled would have happened. Speaking of animals … I'll make sure you're going somewhere with a pigsty for that remark. Get her out of my sight.'

Ϡ

Slowly, the room had cleared. Fenris had been escorted to a spare room in the tavern by Varric, Dorian had vanished – probably into the library – and Cullen had personally carried out the dead guardsman, muttering something about being too green for a sword and having told somebody so. Finding herself unwatched for a moment, Lenkala buried her face in her hands and sighed. 'You were right, you know.' She jumped slightly, then snorted.

'Thanks, Cole.' She tilted her head. 'You've been very quiet since our meeting with your templar.'

'He's not my templar,' Cole told her seriously. 'The elf. Fenris. He has wounds. Deeper, darker than anyone else's here.'

'Dorian hinted something about the markings being painful.'

Cole shook his head and looked at a point way behind her. 'Not them. Deeper. More hidden. He looks away from that pain, fears it. Fears what it could make him become. He refuses to remember. Too much to bear. Too deep to heal.'

'Did Hawke do that?' Whatever _that_ was, Lenkala had no idea.

Cole focussed on Lenkala again. 'No. Hawke … Hawke is a missing piece of a part of himself. What he couldn't push away hard enough at first was torn out against his will when he believed he needed to hold it instead. No longer bleeding, but still a scar. Perhaps tearing when touched, tender. This, he looks at. All the time until the sight makes him ill.'

'Talk to him if you want to. But be careful. The way he felled that guard … I don't want you to get hurt.'

'I won't.'

'And … I was thinking of you when I said I want him watched. Keep an eye on him, but by all means stay out of arm's reach. Literally.'

Cole looked at the chair Fenris had occupied before, then at her. 'I will, Lenka.'


	3. Follow Me Back Home

_((Chapter heading is taken from the Delain song _Nothing Left_, but out of context._

_Also, while I did proofread this chapter, I edited it quite heavily, so I may have missed something.))_

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><p>Chapter 3<p>

Follow Me Back Home

'Brasca.' Zevran stared at the innocent piece of parchment in his hands. At his own handwriting. 'Oh … oh no. No!' Venting his rage, he kicked the bag full of trash next to the shelf holding letters. A bunch of them were his. Here. They had never left the city, had never reached Núria. She knew he wouldn't just vanish if he had any choice. No more letters must have meant that one way or another the choice was taken from him. Breathing hard, he banged his fist against the door of the office the self-proclaimed agent inhabited.

'What now?' the man asked.

'What the blight is that?' Zevran thrust the letter into the agent's hand.

'A letter. We got a bunch of them. Most are pointless, but that one person was different. We suppose it's some sort of code, never figured it out though. Daily reports, you see, sent to Ferelden.'

Zevran wanted to strangle the man, but the fool probably wasn't the one who had intercepted the letters in the first place. 'They're not code! They were from me, sent to Núria Tabris to stop her from worrying. There's nothing more about them.'

'Oh.'

'Yes. Oh.' Zevran saw the fear in the man's eyes. 'If I thought killing you would undo the damage this might have caused, I would,' he said casually. 'As it is, I need to find out if it did cause harm. Do you still have all the letters? Then I can find out what her last information was, perhaps.'

'Yeah, they're all together. We don't have more than these. At least from the one sender. You need the others as well?'

'The others? Figures. Did you monitor all mail sent from Kirkwall?'

'Only if it went to Ferelden.'

'Did you bother sending any of these letters on to wherever they were meant to go?'

The officer shrugged. 'If we were certain they were just plain old letters.'

'You've got some nerve. Why?'

'We were to find out where Hawke is.'

'If he's got any sense, you'll never find him. Why go to such lengths for the man anyway? You're not really working for the city, are you?'

The agent didn't even need to answer. His expression spoke volumes. 'No. I work for a separate … organisation.'

'Which one?'

'Look, I really can't tell you.'

'Is being silent worth your life?'

The man stared. 'What?'

'My business here is done. You see, I'm here because I've been threatened. It happens. A lot. But this time, it sounded determined. And it came from here. I managed to get rid of that particular threat, and I intended to go back home. Home being Vigil's Keep. But now, I assume I would find Vigil's Keep short one important individual, all because of your organisation. So who do I blame?'

'You don't sound Fereldan.'

Zevran folded his arms. 'Because I come from Antiva. I used to be a Crow. Are you sure you don't want to talk?'

'I … please, don't do this.'

'Talk and I'll leave you alone.' He offered a humourless smile. 'I mean that.'

'I work … she'll kill me … Maker. I work for the Nightingale.'

For a moment, Zevran was just stunned. Then he laughed. The agent looked more frightened than ever. 'Leliana?' he asked, just to be sure. 'That's just too good. Do me one more favour. Find out if Núria Tabris is in Kirkwall. I suppose she had enough time to reach here by now. And send a letter to Leliana. Tell her I found you and threatened you and that you talked. I'll make sure she doesn't kill you. If I find Núria in time to do so. You may want to hurry.' Zevran shook his head and made his way to the inn he was staying in.

'Wait! I don't even know who you are!'

He stopped but didn't turn to look at the man again. 'Zevran. Pleased to meet you.'

Ϡ

Cities that were a mess were something Núria was painfully familiar with. But Kirkwall beat them all.

From what she'd heard, it was small wonder. On every corner there were pictures, worn and dirty but some still recognisable, showing the Champion of Kirkwall. The city was apparently looking for him. Why … well. He was a mage, and he had been part of the battle that had thrown the city into chaos.

Given the state of the place, it was difficult to find anyone who didn't want to be found. Núria didn't want to use the guards to look for Zevran. She was on her own. In any normal city, she'd have slunk into the alienage and asked around. But here, the alienage was more of a mess than the one in Denerim, and that was saying something.

'You are Núria Tabris.'

She swore inwardly and turned. The man before her wore tattered clothes. 'What makes you so sure?'

'I have a message for you. Come to the Lowtown docks as soon as you can.'

'Why would I?'

The man shrugged. 'You look for Crows. The Crows have found you first.'

That was not ideal. Perhaps she should find help, after all. While Núria had been asking around, she hadn't been too open about it. There was that shoddy inn where all those with something to hide gathered, and she'd listened in on a few conversations. She'd asked one man who'd hired someone if the other had been a Crow. Other than that, she had been more than a little cautious. The last thing she wanted was draw the attention of a Crow cell, or worse, alert them to her if they held Zevran – assuming that he still lived.

In fact, what Núria had tried was to get in touch with someone who could help. Someone like the people who had aided the Champion of Kirkwall. They seemed a useful bunch. She had found out their names easily enough, had tried to find a dwarf named Varric and an elf named Fenris. Neither of them were anywhere in Kirkwall, it seemed. Now, while none of those Núria had actively tried to get in touch with were anywhere within her reach, the Crows had sent an emissary. Great. 'You found me,' she ground out at last. 'Find someone else for whatever you want done. Hawke. Or Varric. Or any of these people around Hawke.' While Núria doubted they had sought her out to hire her, she decided to play dumb. Perhaps that was the wisest course of action.

'I have no knowledge regarding Hawke's whereabouts. I advise you to meet our agent.'

'I've met more Crows than I care about,' Núria said sharply. 'Many of them are dead now.'

'No need for bloodshed. Be there.' The man turned and walked away. Whatever this was, she'd better be alert.

Ϡ

Núria hurried to the docks, making sure that no-one followed her. Finding help would take too long. Depending on how many there were, she might be able to take them out or run for it. She did know how the Crows fought, after all, giving her an advantage others didn't have. On the surface, it seemed like there was one hooded figure sitting against a wall. Classical. Show one person, let her think she was safe. The rest would be lurking elsewhere. Núria had been to the docks before, knew the possible escape routes. She checked every doorway, took note which alley would take longest for anyone to cover. The verdict wasn't good. If she was ambushed, they could close the area off quickly. So she stayed where she was and watched.

For all the movement the figure made in that quarter of an hour, they might be dead. Perhaps they were. 'Oi!' she called. 'You there. You the one that wants to see me?' The figure raised a hand, proving at least that they were alive. 'You want something? You meet me in the Hanged Man. I'll wait for fifteen minutes. You don't show, it wasn't important.' No reaction. Shaking her head, Núria retreated, keeping a careful eye on her surroundings.

In the Hanged Man, Núria sat down in the centre of the room. She had learned long ago that being in a public place was usually the best defence against assassins. Not that it necessarily meant she wouldn't be attacked, but it meant that any attack would cause a major confusion. Confusion meant she could escape.

She had barely sat down when the door opened. She glanced there and her heart all but stopped from the heady rush of emotion. A shout escaped her lips, turning every head in the tavern. She didn't care, sprinted towards the laughing man and caught him in a tight embrace, clutching him as if for dear life. 'What's this, _mi amora_?' Zevran whispered into her neck. 'Where's your famed composure?'

'I was scared!' She pulled away and managed a dour expression. 'You promised to write. Why did you stop?'

He made a face and led her back to her corner. 'I didn't. My letters were intercepted. I'm so sorry.' He placed his hands on the table, and she took them, intertwining their fingers.

'Look, we need to be careful. Someone wants to meet me.'

'Yes? Well, that would be me.'

'Thought it was a strange coincidence.' Somehow, Núria just couldn't stop grinning, and judging from Zevran's expression, that was contagious.

'Thing is, there's something afoot. Something that isn't good. The strangest things have happened here.' His tone was light, an easy smile on his face, but she knew this man better than anyone else in the world. He was dead serious. Happy about their reunion, but serious.

'Yes. Did you hear about the Chantry? Some madman blew it up.'

'I also heard who that was. Anders.'

Núria stared. 'Our Anders? He wouldn't have … Hang on. He _couldn't_ have, he was in Vigil's Keep with us. He was never gone long enough.'

'Remember when you got a report on three missing people from our lot, one of them a mage? We thought they'd been killed. My guess is the mage disposed of the other two and came here pretending to be someone else. Anyway, he's dead now. The Champion chose to kill him, whoever he really was.'

'Oh, that's just nasty, befouling his name like that. Poor Anders, he'd never hurt a soul if he could help it. Zev, everyone's gone. Almost. After what happened here, Jowan and Anders went to the circle and I haven't heard from them since. All I know is that there's a war and that … thing in the sky and the Calling. I mean, it stopped, but I've still got no clue what started it in the first place. I want to know what's going on, this is killing me.'

'I thought you might say that.' He took her hands. 'I'm done here. One less Crow cell. Perhaps this is enough to teach them to leave me alone.'

'I doubt it.'

'Well, for the moment, it doesn't matter. What do you want to do, my love?'

'I want to find Leliana. She went to Haven, and after the debacle there … did you hear that?'

'This is a city, not Lothering. Yes, I heard. She's founded some sort of Inquisition and they're looking for the Champion of Kirkwall. Or were, today my contact said they had him.'

'I thought that was the city, hunting him.'

'No. What do you say, do we go and ask our friend what the verdict is? Could well be the end of the world.'

'You're always the optimist, aren't you?' Zevran grinned and leaned over the table to kiss Núria.

'If it is, I'd like to give it one last good kick. You in?'

'Well, if this _is_ the end of the world, I'd rather know it in advance. Any idea where that Inquisition is? Last I heard they were in Haven.'

'Haven's gone. They've moved to some sort of mountain fortress. Skyhold, I believe. At any rate, they aren't hiding, so finding them shouldn't be the problem.'

* * *

><p><em>((I will change POV, obviously. I've got one more that needs attention, but that will probably wait until chapter 5.<em>

_Considering how I'll handle this, there may well be chapters that are a bit shorter than my usual average. But we'll see.))_


	4. Control the Storm

_((This chapter heading is a song by Delain.))_

* * *

><p>Chapter 4<p>

Control the Storm

The knock on Lenkala's door wasn't entirely unexpected. She would meet with the other mages in an hour. Until then, she had hoped she could collect her thoughts, but somehow she had already guessed that she would have a visitor. After all, what they wanted to do was no small feat, and she wanted to figure out for herself if knowing the truth was worth the risks. 'Come in, Leliana.'

The bard opened the door. She wasn't alone. The mage from the Winter Palace was with her. The two exchanged a glance. 'First … thank you for allowing him to come. I'd have begged you if you hadn't agreed.'

Lenkala looked at the man. He seemed tired. And shy, his cheeks flushing when their eyes met. 'You know each other, I take it.'

'That is an understatement,' Leliana said quietly. 'The long version … is for another time. The short one is, he is a Grey Warden. He also has a foster child, who came with him. That girl happens to be my foster child, too.'

Lenkala tried to make sense of that statement and failed. 'Ah … what?'

'My name isn't Levyn,' the mage said at last. 'I am Jowan. I … was an apostate and got conscripted by the Hero of Ferelden. I had been made Tranquil before that, but it was undone. The mother of our child is dead and I promised to take care of her. We raised her together.'

Lenkala's eyebrows had shot skywards when Jowan said he had been Tranquil. The man should talk to Cassandra. Perhaps he had useful information for her. But there was something else she wanted to know, too. 'Wait. Are you two an item?'

The small smile on Leliana's face was telling already. 'Yes.'

'I thought you're a sister.' Leliana made a face.

'Yes. I was once, but … Look, I _was_ a confidant of the Divine and her friend. That wasn't a lie. None of it was. Except that I hadn't seen her in a long time because I was in Vigil's Keep.'

'I still don't get it. Why do you use a false name, Jowan?'

'I needed to while we were on the run. I couldn't risk anyone remembering what I was. I decided it was wiser in Orlais, too. You see … I've done things I'm not proud of, and I didn't want attention.'

'And so you went to the Winter Palace? That makes no sense.'

'I didn't stroll in there the moment I set foot in Orlais. Once invited, I could hardly say, oh, and my name isn't Levyn after all.' He closed his eyes. 'I don't know. If Cullen hears my real name, he'll remember. I avoid him like the plague because of that. He'd want my head, and I can't blame him.'

'You're still under my protection,' Lenkala said gently. 'But remain Levyn, if you like. Your daughter …'

'Darya. That's her real name. And don't call me Levyn. I'm sick of hiding.'

Lenkala nodded slowly. 'Understandable. Jowan, then. Good that I haven't introduced you yet. People would think I'm completely confused.'

The anxiety drained out of the man at her light tone. Leliana put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. Lenkala couldn't help smiling. 'Will you help us? I need your input on something.'

A smile tugged at Jowan's lips. 'As best I can.'

Ϡ

Fenris opened the door of his room and glared outside. His hearing was good enough to notice someone sneaking around now and then, and the intervals suggested that it wasn't coincidence. He expected someone in armour. He found a young man who looked almost shocked at his sudden appearance. He must be one of the servants, and by the looks of his clothes, he wasn't well paid. If at all. 'Hypocrites,' he said. 'You're all hypocrites.'

The uncertainty on the other man's face was clear. 'I … am sorry. I didn't mean to … I can't do it anymore, I wish I could.'

Apparently, the young person was not only wearing old leather but also clearly confused. 'Are you lost?' Fenris asked, hoping the answer was no. He wouldn't be much help, having only just arrived.

'Lost? No. Found.' The young man shook himself visibly. 'I am Cole. I want to help you.'

'Hang on. I saw you with the Inquisitor. You were there when I arrived, in the throne room.'

Cole looked past – no, _through_ Fenris and when he spoke again, his voice was little more than a whisper. 'Lost. Breaking. Broken. Burnt and brittle. Don't let him touch me. Don't let him take me! Kill him … kill him and run. Run, run, run!'

Fenris felt as if he had been thrown into a frozen lake in full armour. 'What are you?'

'I am Cole. I … want to help.'

'You're doing a lousy job.'

'He won't hurt you.' The cool blue eyes settled on Fenris's green ones. 'He would never do this thing to you. To anyone.' Before Fenris could slam the door shut on the man, his eyes closed as if he had been hit, and Fenris kept watching, fascination winning out over sheer alarm. 'Don't ask him. Don't make it worse. You need not know everything … not this time. Not of him.' He looked again. 'He knows. Or guesses. He won't tell. You need not be afraid.'

'I am _not_ afraid of the man.' Fenris hardly recognised his own voice. 'I'll ask again. What are you? A mage? I don't think so.'

'I'm not a mage. I am human. Somewhat. I am to keep an eye on you. I met Hawke.'

The non-sequitur caught Fenris completely off guard. Whatever Cole was, insane or on some sort of horrible substance, he knew Fenris's thoughts. He grabbed him and pulled him inside. 'Do you know where he is?'

'In the Fade.' Cole said this very patiently, as if explaining it to a child. He was also completely calm, despite the fist still clutching his collar.

'So I've heard. Do you know what happened there?' The next thought struck him out of the blue. 'Are you a demon?'

Another would have seen the sudden glow of Fenris's lyrium markings and be scared. Not this one. If anything, he appeared thrilled. 'How do you do that?' Fenris refused to answer, just stared the being down. 'I am not a demon. I was a spirit. Now I am more human.'

'A spirit?'

'Solas says Compassion.'

After a moment of hesitation, Fenris released Cole. 'Sounds better than some. If it's true. I still don't trust you. Where is Hawke? Don't say in the Fade. You'd regret that.'

Cole shook his head, looking sad. 'I wanted to tell you that I don't believe the mages can find him. No being can live in the Fade so long. Not like this. It would have consumed us all if we hadn't got out.'

'If you're a spirit, you know the Fade. Can we find some proof of his death? Anything?'

'Spirits would know. Those that live in the part of the Fade where we were. The mages could ask them. They are discussing it right now. What to do. How to look. Then you will know, too.'

Ϡ

'We cannot do it,' Vivienne said simply. 'We are not enough.'

Dorian rubbed his forehead. 'Why not?'

Pointing from one to the next with herself last, Vivienne counted. 'One, two, three, four, five. Four, since one mage must go. It's just …'

The door opened by a fraction, showing a sliver of Cole's face. 'Sorry, but …'

'Get out, demon.'

Dorian stood abruptly. 'Vivienne, don't be so rude. Come on in, Cole.'

The young man fixed his gaze on Dorian rather than the woman but stayed put. 'No.'

'Well, what can we do for you?'

'Not for me. I know you don't want to be disturbed, but he insisted.'

Dorian was going to ask what Cole was going on about when a growl came from behind the door. 'This is my problem more than theirs. I want to know what they plan to do.' Dorian closed his eyes and sighed.

'Fenris. Come in, why don't you. Thank you, Cole.'

'Lenka …'

Lenkala chuckled. 'I think we're enough to handle Fenris. You can go.'

'What?' Dorian asked.

'I asked him to keep an eye on him.' Cole vanished and was replaced with the elf. He had come unarmed. Either that was a demonstration of power or a gesture of peace. Dorian wasn't certain, but he would give him the benefit of the doubt. 'This isn't a secret meeting. You're welcome to listen.'

'I talked to your demon. I'm not sure he understood that part.'

Vivienne laughed. It was completely mirthless. Lenkala ignored her. 'He's not a demon. We can discuss him later.' She looked at the ceiling for a moment. 'Vivienne … At the moment I don't worry about our number so much as about something much more basic: Does any of us know how to do this spell?'

'I do,' Jowan, as the mage Lenkala had brought back from Orlais had been introduced, said at once. 'I've done it before.'

'Good. How many were you?'

The mage bit his lip and glanced away, but only for a moment. 'Just me.'

Lenkala stared. Dorian leaned back in his chair. He knew only one way how that was possible. Surely, that couldn't be the case. 'What? Then what's stopping you from doing it again?'

'Ah … the circumstances were … Oh, who am I kidding? I had a sacrifice'

For a moment, Dorian just took in the inconspicuous man and the look on Vivienne's face, and he couldn't help it. He burst into a laughing fit he tried and failed to control. 'Look at you all,' he managed, wiping over his eyes. The scandalised expression on Vivienne's face didn't help him get a grip. 'Oooh, a mage from Tevinter, he must be a blood mage. No _way_ he's not. And then we pick up this nice little fellow, and he tells us completely unfazed that he murdered someone to kick someone else into the Fade.'

'This is not a laughing matter,' Vivienne said sharply.

'Indeed. Hypocrites! I do so love you all, but you're all hypocrites.'

Lenkala had a pained smile on her face, Solas looked as sombre he always did, Fenris stared at him before turning away with obvious disgust, and Jowan seemed to want to sink into the floor. Still, he answered quickly. 'I don't use blood magic unless it's a matter of life and death. And I certainly won't hurt anyone, willing or no, because the circumstances aren't anywhere near as dire.' He looked at Fenris and shrugged. 'You're the one who asked for this I'm told, so it's you I'm answering. Sorry, but I'm not doing it.'

'I should hope not.'

Dorian snorted. 'Well, still, Jowan, you know the spell. You can't go. Also, what none of you have addressed yet is that we've got to time this. The part of the Fade where Hawke was left isn't exactly safe, I gathered, so we can only send someone for a spell, no pun intended. We need someone here who can tell how time passes in the Fade. Out of the top of my head, I'd say the only one with a chance at that is Solas.'

The elven mage nodded slowly. 'I can do that, but I can do it from either side.'

Dorian grinned at him. 'Yes. But then you might decide to look a little longer, just a little longer, and the something happens. Just to be safe, I think you should stay here.'

'That sounds wise.'

'Lenka is too important to risk her,' Dorian continued, earning a scowl. 'That leaves Vivienne or me to go to the Fade.'

The first enchanter raised her hands. 'No. I won't work with a blood mage. I'm out.' She had left the room before anyone could protest.

'I can go.'

Lenkala shook her head at Fenris. 'You're not a mage. You can't.' Dorian glanced at the elf, once again marvelling at his markings.

'Don't bet your life on that. But I wouldn't send him alone.' He looked at Jowan. 'If you use your own force only, you can't do it, can you?' The other man shook his head. 'Thought so. If Solas is willing to do this with you, and perhaps Lenkala, too, would that be enough? Not a sacrifice, obviously, just a small donation from them?'

'That … might be enough. They adding their magic and blood.' He stood and turned away from them. 'I don't want to do this. I really don't. Can't you find a few mages and let them pool their mana?' Dorian shrugged.

'We could try. But that would take time. Time we don't have.'

'He's right,' Lenkala said. 'Either this way or not at all. I'll understand if you refuse. I'd do it, if I could.' She had let Dorian instruct her in his own brand of magic, and that was controversial, too. What was one more controversial spell? 'My greatest problem is that I don't want you to risk your life, Dorian. As you said, this part of the Fade isn't a stroll through a sunlit forest.'

'Show me a part that is for anyone except Solas. Anyway, I'm way too intrigued to be cowed. And I'm at least sure that my magic can alert Solas if I get in trouble.'

'You taught me some of it, I can do it, too.'

'You're too new to this. Look. You're the one person we can't lose. You know that, too.'

'Then I'll let someone else decide.' Lenkala looked at Fenris who had sat silently but with an expression that spoke volumes. 'Would you agree to this? Would Hawke?'

'Those are two questions. They don't have the same answer.'

'I'm not a very patient woman, Fenris. Be plain.' He looked at her then, his face controlled, but Dorian could see the battle of emotions behind those eyes. The man was ripping himself apart on the inside.

'Hawke … would not balk. I know that.' Dorian decided to rescue him.

'Lenka, see it this way. Imagine someone once tied you down and burnt every hair on your body, blackening enough of your skin to almost kill you. How would you feel about someone approaching with a torch, telling you they'll make you feel warm?' He shrugged. 'It's your choice, Fenris. I'll help, if you want that.'

'I can do this myself.'

'Sorry. No. You can't. You may not even be able to get to the Fade, we'll see that when it happens. Then those mages would have wasted their spell and need time to recuperate. If I come with you, worst case is I'm in the Fade alone. What is certain, however, is that I've been there, even if that was only once. I know enough to help us find some information if there is any to be found and remain safe until the spell pulls us back; or even to tell Solas I'm done and he can bring me back.'

'I can speak for myself. And I won't go anywhere with you.'

'Well, then don't,' Jowan said at last. 'Look, I'm not sending you alone. You go with Dorian, or not at all.'

Fenris's gaze snapped to Jowan, and the last bit of strength bled out of him. 'All right. So be it.'

'We need time to prepare. Solas and I will have to figure out how long you can or should be gone, and those of us who cast need to be well rested. You should be, too.'

Lenkala nodded. 'True. Fenris, don't expect too much. What we found there was … not pleasant. I doubt that Hawke is alive. All I want is proof either way, but don't get your hopes up.'

'I had little hope when I came. I have none now. You have my thanks for trying.'

Lenkala's expression changed. Dorian knew her well enough by now to know that she felt for him. He looked entirely defeated. If Dorian hadn't seen him earlier, he'd never have believed this man had it in him to harm anything. His must have searched for Hawke so doggedly that the prospect of everything being futile left him with nothing. Drained. 'This isn't over yet,' Lenkala tried. 'Just …'

Fenris stood and she fell silent. 'I understand.'

Dorian looked at the retreating figure. 'You know,' he said quietly, 'I don't like this. I don't like his slouch, I don't like that look in his eyes, I don't like his markings, I don't like anything about him.'

'As far as I can tell, the feeling is mutual,' Lenkala said calmly.

'I don't mean it like that. I mean, sure, I won't bawl my eyes out when he leaves, given that he actively hates me – even though I get why he does. But what I mean is that I think he might choose to do something very irreversible if this goes wrong.'

'That Tevene for someone being suicidal?'

'Perhaps. I don't know, maybe I'm reading too much into it. But if this doesn't work, and I have as little hope as you do, we'd better keep an eye on him.' He sighed. 'He said he talked to Cole. I'm afraid, for once, our friend has done more harm than good.'

* * *

><p><em>((Don't get used to that frequency of updates. Had the telephone today in my office, and that means I had time between calls.))<em>


	5. Wayfaring Stranger

_((So I thought I had an error in reasoning in the previous chapter, but research brought me to the conclusion that isn't the case. I'd be grateful for input._

_In DA:O only a mage can go to the Fade to rescue Connor. I took that to mean that Jowan or the Circle mages can't send a non-mage there. The sloth demon in the Tower could – but he sent you to sleep before._

_In DA:II you go to the Fade with a bunch of non-mages, being sent there by the Keeper. Or at least, that's how I remember it, and that made me somewhat uncertain. Now it's equally possible that being a Keeper she did something a Circle mage wouldn't know (and a younger Dalish mage might not know), or that I have forgotten something. For now, I'll let this stand as it is._

_Chapter heading is a gospel song I had the pleasure to sing this autumn.))_

* * *

><p>Chapter 5<p>

Wayfaring Stranger

The smell of the steak and ale pie was delicious. Rhys had barely managed to crack the surface when a hand on his shoulder shook him roughly, accompanied by a hiss in his ear. He groaned.

The pie was replaced with snow and nagging hunger. 'Rhys … There's more of them here.'

He was instantly alert, all thoughts of a complaint gone. He looked into Evangeline's pale face and scrambled out of his bedroll and their tent, luckily hidden close to the crags. Except he had no idea what powers of detection these monsters had. 'Can we get past them unseen?'

Rhys snorted. 'Can you become invisible? Oh, Cole, I need you.'

'Cole?' Evangeline asked.

'A friend.' Only a short while ago he had told her about him – again. She had remembered for a few hours, had suggested they seek him out, and Rhys had agreed, albeit grudgingly. Now, he had slipped from her mind again, forgotten as he always was. 'We came here for him. Perhaps he can help you with the lyrium.'

'Oh. How?'

'No idea. But I can't think of anyone else. Maybe he can make you forget that you need it. I don't know.'

A hand closed around Rhys's arm. 'Look!'

Alarmed, Rhys stared in the direction Evangeline indicated. One of the red templars was coming towards them. Rhys prepared a spell, very aware of how inadequate anything he cast would be. He'd fought them, but never alone. 'Stay back,' he said when Evangeline drew her sword. 'If this goes sour, make a break for Skyhold.'

'You think I'm leaving you here?' the templar asked. 'Think again.'

'Please!' They just looked at each other. She couldn't leave him to his fate any more than he could her. 'Right. We'll manage.'

The red templar was almost there, Evangeline's feet planted firmly on the ground, and Rhys's spell ready. He cast, and the thing froze solid. Evangeline's shield slammed into it at once, shattering it to a million pieces. But there were two more.

Rhys had seen one monstrosity of a templar take down twelve men. The good thing was, these were still relatively human. 'Angie.'

'Yes?'

'I'll stop them. You run when I say the word.'

'Rhys …'

'Listen. I'll be right with you.'

'Don't you dare die.'

'Not planning on it. We approach. You scream and run up the path when I say so. Appear to lose it.' She shot him a doubtful glance but nodded. Sword and shield firmly in her hands, she walked before him. The templars were at the side of the path rather than on it. That made it easier. Rhys's spell was ready.

'Run,' he whispered. Evangeline screamed and started running while Rhys stood still, waiting where they would go. They went for Evangeline.

Rhys's staff glowed, the ground flared, and both templars were caught in the glyph, unable to move on. Without looking back, Rhys ran after Evangeline. Just a little further there was a short tunnel. They burst through it and Rhys halted, spinning. The templars were closing, but he had bought them enough time. Shutting his eyes, he focussed inwards and then _pushed_. A low rumble went through the stone and he and Evangeline backed up the path. Before the templars were at them, the arch of rock above them gave and collapsed. 'Shame,' he said when all was silent. 'A little later and they'd be under it rather than behind it.'

'How long before they get past it?'

Rhys eyed the pile of rubble. 'Past that? Longer than it takes us to go to Skyhold.' He sighed. 'We've left everything in the camp.'

'Better our things than us.'

Rhys allowed himself a moment to smile at the woman. He reached out and cupped her cheek. 'True. Come on, love.'#

Ϡ

They reached Skyhold within the day. The guards at the gate asked for their names and let them enter without further investigation. Somehow Rhys had expected tighter security, but the surprise was a pleasant one. Probably the Inquisition had enough spies to know if someone was a threat long before they arrived.

The next part was potentially more difficult. From what Rhys had gathered, the Inquisitor had been looking for him and Evangeline. That they had been found was not random. The representatives they'd run into had known exactly who and what they were. Now the only explanation for all he had been told was Cole. So he supposed Cole was somewhere here. Or at least, he had been. Only finding the young man against his will was close to impossible. If he had left or if the Inquisitor, like most people, simply didn't remember him, Rhys would likely never get anywhere near him. There was also a chance that Cole was unwilling to see him.

He didn't need to worry. Past the gates, Rhys looked left and found a row of tents that must be an infirmary. Next to them, frozen in mid-step, stood Cole. The way he was half obscured by one of the tents he looked as if he had just jumped down the wall behind him. Knowing him, that might very well be the case.

'Cole,' Rhys whispered. Cole flinched. Rhys covered the distance between them and grabbed the young man by the shoulders. 'You … you … Maker's breath.' He embraced him then, glad to have found him, glad the spirit allowed him to see him, glad that he could finally tell his friend that he still cared about him and had, in fact, never stopped.

'It's all right,' Cole said. 'I understand.'

Rhys pulled away with a strangled laugh and looked at the dark-ringed blue eyes. 'Cole, I'm so glad you're here. We need you. Angie … this is Cole.'

'Yes, I gathered that.'

'You'll remember me now,' Cole said. 'I am more real than I was.' Evangeline smiled at him, and Cole mirrored her expression, the worry slowly leaving him. He stood before her, took her in with that unwavering glance that could unnerve someone who wasn't used to it. 'You need to talk to Cullen.' Rhys and Evangeline exchanged a glance. 'He feels it, too. The beckon. Loud, screaming and tearing his mind.'

'A templar. Addicted to lyrium.'

'He's fighting. He is very brave.'

Evangeline took a step closer, bringing her within an arm's reach. 'Did he stop? How is he?'

'You need more help. But you also need Cullen.'

'Nothing to hide from you, huh?' Rhys asked. 'Could you bring us to the Inquisitor, do you think?'

For a moment, Cole was hesitant. 'I could,' he said then. 'But she is preparing a spell now.'

'Can you get us something to eat, in the meantime? At least for Angie.' Rhys bit his lip. 'I'm afraid I can't pay. We were attacked and had to leave everything behind.'

Cole grabbed them both by the wrists and dragged them towards a set of stairs. 'Come. I'll bring you to the tavern. There's food, more than you can eat.'

Ϡ

Núria was used to walking, but when they reached Skyhold, she was bone-weary. They had rested only as much as was entirely necessary, and the path up the Frostback Mountains was exhausting. The Calling, even though it had ceased, had drained her for too long, and her desperate hunt for her lover hadn't helped. Now, all was better. The breach in the sky was closed, but there were still demons and tears in the veil. What was more, Núria still had no answer to the question what had caused the false Calling. Because it was definitely false.

The Old Gods were gone. The cost for that certainty had been the life of her friend Morrigan, and Núria refused to believe that her sacrifice was in vain. Whatever had done this to her and her fellow wardens must be something terrible and powerful, but it was not an Archdemon. The fact that as abruptly as it had started the voice in her head had ceased supported her assumption further.

Now they were in, and the guards had directed them to the tavern. 'You have no idea how much I need something to drink.'

'Other than snow, you mean?' Zevran asked, his arm around her and a smirk on his face. Maker preserve the man and his undying humour.

'Other than snow. And then there's the fact that no-one's going crystalline on us here.'

'Oh, yes, a definite improvement. But you've got to hand it to them, they cleared the path for us. That was nice of them.'

'Very. And it was also nice of them not to notice you.' They had now reached the upper landing of the stairs and saw a training ground. 'I wish I could work with a bow.' Zevran threw his head back and laughed.

'If Leliana couldn't teach you, no-one can. You did a nice job throwing that knife, though. Imagine we'd have had to fight them in an honest battle.'

'Zev, you're the one who taught me to fight warriors.'

'Yes. But those were not human. Or darkspawn, for that matter. I'm telling you, if they hadn't been so focussed on getting up the path, we'd be dead now.'

She nodded and pointed ahead. 'I think that's the inn right there. And you're right. You know that Leliana will ask us to help.'

Zevran smirked. 'And you won't say no.' He stopped just short of the tavern. 'Núria, remember this. This isn't your fight. You help if you want, but you're not the one bearing the albatross.'

'I'll keep it in mind.'

'I'll remind you. Mostly, we want to find out what happened to our friends. And for that, Leliana is our best shot.' He opened the door and made an inviting gesture. 'After you, _amora_.'

Ϡ

'I know you're in there, broody. Open the door.' Varric allowed Fenris a moment's respite before he continued. 'That lock won't stop me, you know.'

The door opened. Fenris was doing his best to look angry. Varric wasn't impressed by the glare or the barked reply of, 'What, dwarf?'

'I thought you might like to have a drink. I know how to get them to give you the good stuff, too.'

'Tempting, but I need my wits about me.'

'Have it your way. Look. You stroll right past me into Solas's room, stroll back out looking like a beaten puppy. Again, ignoring me. Now I know I'm hardly the centre of your world, but I thought you'd at least care to tell me how you've been.'

'I need a drink for that conversation.' Varric grinned and led the way down. 'What is that woman doing here?'

Varric looked at the two elves at the table Fenris was ogling. They were deep in conversation. 'Never saw her. You know, there's so many people round here, I don't know everyone. I'm working on it, though.'

'She's the Hero of Ferelden.' Varric made a gesture to the innkeep and stared.

'Really? I thought she'd be more impressive.'

'You've clearly never met her or you wouldn't say that. She and that man with her took me captive. They held me in Vigil's Keep. I looked for Hawke there, first. If I hadn't let them take me …'

'Fenris, I'll be blunt. I don't like what you're planning. I listened, you see. I lost a friend when Hawke got trapped in the Fade. I'd rather not lose another one.' He frowned. 'I never thought you'd stay together forever anyway. Everything was a battle between you two. Always.'

Fenris nodded slowly. The innkeep placed wine before him and ale before Varric. Fenris held the glass to his nose, sniffed, and raised an eyebrow. Varric chuckled. 'Impressed, are you?'

'I must admit that I am.' He took a careful sip and nodded. 'Indeed. Varric, I don't want to talk about this.'

'Thought you might say that. Look. I don't get why you want to risk your neck for a man who rubbed you the wrong way from the word go. Help me understand that.'

'He would have done the same for me.'

'Undoubtedly. It would have been the perfect adventure for him.' Varric rubbed the bridge of his nose. 'I'm not saying he didn't care about you, because I know he did. All I mean is that you were more attached to him than the other way round. You knew that all the time. You even told me so once. You may not remember that, you were a bit drunk.'

'I remember quite well.' Fenris eyed the people in the room, all strangers, all unknown quantities. His expression changed, anger suffusing him visibly. 'You see, I drove him off. Hawke cheated, I believe. I called him on it, he walked away. Next I know he's being hunted. I chase after him to warn him. I get caught by the Warden. Then I come here and am told he is dead.'

'Oh, Maker. Fenris, this isn't your fault.'

The elf banged his hands on the table with so much vehemence Varric was half surprised the thing survived it. All eyes turned to them, including those of the Grey Warden and Cole, the latter in company Varric didn't know. 'I don't want you to …'

'Fenris, shut up.' Varric's voice was low, his eternal patience probably unnerving the elf even more. 'Once in your life, just listen. I know you don't want to hear this, but it seems you need it. You're destroying yourself. Going to the Fade with the aid of blood magic? Really, Fenris? You of all people?'

'I … have little choice.'

Varric sighed. 'I'm not trying to tell you what to do. All I ask is that after this, you let the man rest. I remember how you said it wouldn't be forever when we were still in Kirkwall. Please don't let this break you. Hawke wouldn't want that. He tried to open your mind and failed badly. What he didn't want you to do was toss all your principles out of the window and turn into someone you can't face in the mirror. He'd be the first in line to tell you no.'

'I know.' They glanced at the Warden and her companion. Both were still staring at them as if expecting Fenris to slaughter everyone in the building. A rather horrible leer formed on Fenris's face and he raised his glass to toast the Warden across the room. 'I'll leave as soon as this is done,' he said then.

'Oh? To do what?' Varric leaned forwards and lowered his voice to a whisper. 'I'll give you something to think about: Stay and help the Inquisition. If not them, me. I know I need someone, and you're perfect. No, don't answer right now. Just think about it and tell me when you're done with the Fade business. Deal?'

During Varric's speech, Fenris's vile grin had turned into the half smile the elf spared for special occasions. 'Deal.'

* * *

><p><em>((Depending on how evil I'll feel, the next or so chapter has several possible outcomes. I mean, the bottom line will always be the same, but how cruel the path there is I'm not certain.))<em>


	6. A World Beyond Your Sleep

_((I've heard that whatever is behind an eluvian is hazardous for a non-elf. I ignore that because it's book lore, and I haven't read the books (aside from _Asunder_). Also, a non-elf inquisitor isn't overly troubled by it, either. Now that might be the mark, but it might also be because the books aren't considered canon._

_To my shame, I haven't (yet) played Witch Hunt. I read the summary after writing this chapter and had to smile. I thought it a bit weird that Jowan would know anything about eluvian at all, but it seems it actually works out._

_I also went back and got rid of a few errors in the previous chapters._

_Chapter heading is a line out of _Sleepwalker's Dream_ by Delain._

_Edit: Found a stupid mistake and killed it.))_

* * *

><p>Chapter 6<p>

A World Beyond Your Sleep

Lenkala felt uneasy. She had never been afraid of blood magic. As a Dalish, she had grown up knowing the risks and that sometimes they were worth taking; that sometimes, it took more than mana. But this felt wrong on every level.

Solas passed her the knife he had used to cut his palms open, and she mirrored him. Jowan had been first. Dorian looked up at them all with fascination, Fenris with thinly veiled hostility. Somehow it seemed hazardous to send them into the Fade together. She feared for Dorian's life, feared that the elf would destroy him in a fit of rage. That Varric had taken her aside and claimed he was quite nice, really, had only helped a little. Cole's gentle words about the stranger had set her mind at ease enough to let Jowan do his spell at all rather than insist he send Dorian alone and claim it hadn't worked.

That part was also not clear. She had visited Dorian and tried to find out more about the markings and what they did. The truth was that the Tevinter mage had little more knowledge. He was fascinated and disgusted in equal measures, tried not to stare, and failed.

'Now, close the circle.' Jowan reached out and they clasped hands, their blood mingling.

The two men sitting crosslegged in their centre, leaning against her and Jowan's legs, exchanged a glance. 'Safe travels,' Dorian said jovially, earning a glare.

'I will start now. If you fear I take too much from you, pull away.' Jowan had barely stopped talking when Lenkala felt the pull on her strength. It wasn't quite like casting herself, nothing she could control. Panic threatened take her, but she controlled it quickly. Focussing on herself, she hardly heard Jowan's muttering. The power of the spell made her wonder if she _could_ pull away if she had to or if the grasp of magic would drain the life out of her.

Fenris glowed like he had before attacking the guard, then all was quiet. The pull on Lenka ceased and she let go of Solas and Jowan's hands to lower Fenris on ground while Jowan did the same with Dorian. 'Now what?'

'Now we leave Solas alone,' Jowan said simply. 'He will pull them both back.' He lowered his voice. 'There's something I wanted to tell you, anyway. Please come with me.'

Closing the door behind them gently, they stepped into the throne room. Lenkala told a guard to make sure Solas wasn't disturbed before she followed Jowan to the herb garden and from there to a small room at its side. When he opened the door, she found it bare but for a large mirror at the far wall. 'What on earth …' She approached slowly, took in the ornaments of the frame and spun to face Jowan. 'This thing is Dalish.'

He approached with a reverent look. 'Yes. This is old magic. It is called an eluvian. They are used to communicate. And to travel.' He ran a hand over the surface, which rippled under his touch. 'You walked in the Fade, not as a spirit, not in a dream, but as you are here. Physical. An eluvian might accomplish the same.'

'Wait. You've lost me. Can I touch it?'

Jowan smiled. 'Yes.' The frame felt normal, the surface reacted to Lenkala's touch as it had to Jowan's. 'How do you find such a thing? How would you know to look for it in the first place?'

'On my escape from the circle I stumbled upon an old Tevinter statue. It talked to me. And no, I'm not crazy.' His voice was lower when he continued, the fascination visible in his face. 'I never forgot it. While I was Tranquil, no-one stopped me from doing research that might have drawn attention before. That's the one thing that was still human about me. I did research. Deep research beyond what I was told. And I remember everything I learned.'

'As a Tranquil you learned forbidden knowledge?'

'Oh, it's not forbidden. It's just … no-one really understands it. Or tries to, even. You see, this kind of magic will frighten the Templars. As a Tranquil, I would never have dreamed of using such a thing. It was all academic.'

'And now?'

Jowan's eyes were alight with excitement. 'Do you want to see?'

Lenkala knew she should say no. She should kick Jowan and his mirror out of Skyhold. But this thing was Dalish, part of her own history, her own magic. So she nodded. Jowan placed his palm against the mirror and cast … something. The surface bulged outwards, swallowing them both.

For a moment, Lenkala thought she was in the Fade. But that wasn't the case. The place was vast and foreign, dark, unclear. 'Where are we?' She turned slowly, looked at the odd structures and more mirrors, most of them pitch black, some of them emitting a sick, green glow. Only a few seemed like the one behind them: the surface shifting in colour, but without that vile look about it.

'Beyond,' Jowan's voice tore Lenkala out of her reverie. 'From here, you can reach all the places where an active eluvian remains. I am very certain that there is also a way to reach the Fade.'

'In physical form. As the magisters did.' Jowan nodded.

'Yes.' He made a gesture that encompassed their surroundings. 'Imagine Corypheus came here. Imagine he managed to do what he wants: enter the Fade in the flesh.'

'Oh, no.'

'Yes. Oh no.' His brows furrowed slightly, giving him a rather lost expression. 'There is an eluvian, I believe, deep in the Arbor Wilds in the Temple of Mythal. If Corypheus lays hands on it, Maker preserve us all.'

'We have to beat him to it then.'

Jowan nodded. 'Yes. I would like to mark the place at your war table. We need to be prepared for a fight once we go there.'

'If you'd said that sooner, I'd have stopped these antics going on in Solas's room.'

'That makes no difference, Inquisitor. We cannot move at once anyway, but we should make haste.' He smiled. 'Do not fear the unknown. Fear our enemy. This is not evil. Just old.'

Lenkala forced herself to look at the man. Really look at him. At his temples, there was some grey mixing into the black of his hair, he had a shadow of a beard, the beginnings of crow's-feet at the corners of his eyes. There was an eagerness in his eyes that was so typical for a mage who hadn't let the Chantry quench his spirit. 'I don't fear this,' she told him. 'I fear what happens if we are too late.'

'Then let us be sure that we aren't. To reach the Fade from here, Corypheus needs to tear down the barrier between this place and the realm of spirits. It would destroy everything. Our own world, and this as well. All the beauty of it, lost forever.'

'Jowan … the other mirrors. What's wrong with them.'

'They're closed. Many are tainted, too. To touch them would mean infection.' He ambled over to one of the blackened ones, touched it, and sighed. 'To reactivate these, you need a key. Perhaps given time I could make some of them useable. I wonder where they would lead. Old elven ruins, lost in some secret forest no-one sets foot in, mostly. But who knows? How can you ever know if you don't see it?'

'What sort of key would you need?'

Jowan shrugged. 'A word, a gesture. A thought. A certain artefact. It depends, every eluvian is different.' He pointed to one of the green mirrors. 'This one is tainted. Don't go near it. If you ever stumble upon an eluvian in the real world, stay away. You wouldn't notice it's harmful until it is too late.'

'Can you tell before you touch it?'

'I'm a Grey Warden. I sense the taint.' The apostate led the way back, and Lenkala found herself abruptly in the small room again. A child was there, and for a moment she thought something had come with them.

'Is that yours?' the girl asked, looking at Jowan. She reached out, and Lenkala saw the surface reaching out towards her. The apostate quickly grabbed her and pulled her away.

'Don't!' he said sharply. 'Not without me.' For a moment, she had been startled at Jowan's sudden shout, but it passed quickly. 'Inquisitor, I don't think you've met Darya yet.'

She smiled at the young girl. 'I'm Lenka,' she said.

'Lenkala Lavellan, a Dalish mage.'

Lenkala raised an eyebrow. 'Indeed.'

'I didn't want to scare you, Daddy.'

Jowan scratched his head and ruffled Darya's hair. 'I know, love. It shouldn't have reacted to you, as far as I know. I'll need to look into this.' He stared at the mirror as if he suddenly feared it might bite. 'Maker knows what would have happened if you'd gone through alone and I hadn't been there to follow you.' He smiled at Darya. 'Would like to help me find out what just happened?'

'Is that wise?' Lenkala asked before she could stop herself.

'Wiser than making it more interesting by chasing her away,' Jowan replied. 'There's nothing more dangerous than secrets. I know that for certain, if nothing else.'

Ϡ

Lenkala had barely stepped back inside the main building of the keep when she was ambushed by Josephine. 'Inquisitor, there are four new arrivals that seek an audience.'

'Oh, really. My quarters. All of them together, I don't have much time right now.'

'Very well.'

'Incidentally, who are they?'

Josephine smiled. 'I thought you weren't going to ask. The Hero of Ferelden with Zevran Arainai, and the pair Leliana looked for a while ago. Rhys and Evangeline.'

Lenkala blinked at her ambassador. 'Are you sure?' The Antivan tutted as if the question was outrageous. 'All right. In that case, find Cole.'

'He was with them since their arrival. Should I … delay them, give you a moment to rest?'

Sweet as the thought was, Lenkala had to refuse. 'No. I need to get back to Solas when he's done with his … whatever he's doing. I need to see that Dorian's all right.'

'Understood.'


	7. Watchman, Will the Night Soon Pass?

_((This chapter heading is taken from my choir's current project, Mendelssohn's _Lobgesang_. I'll probably be quoting more of that._

_There's also a couple of lines from the ASP song _Denn ich bin der Meister_ in there.))_

* * *

><p>Chapter 7<p>

Watchman, Will the Night Soon Pass?

'Oh this is one _ugly_ part of the Fade. I wonder if even Solas would like it.' Dorian turned slowly in a full circle and shook his head. 'If I'd been asked to pick a place for a visitor, this would not have been it. Shame.'

'You talk excessively, mage.'

Dorian tutted at Fenris. 'And I'll talk more, believe it or not.' He folded his arms. 'Before we start frolicking around in the Fade, you need to understand a few things about it. First …'

'I've been in the Fade before. Spare me the lecture.'

Dorian heard the threat in the deep voice, but he refused to be intimidated. 'You were? Now that's a story I'd like to hear.'

'You won't. Only that you wouldn't be the first to end up under attack.'

Dorian shrugged. 'Still. How would you even orient yourself?'

Fenris looked around and pointed. 'The Black City. It is visible at every point of the Fade, or so they say. And there are other things. Landmarks, paths.'

'Hawke told you that, I assume.'

Fenris's glare was rather impressive, really. 'I read it.'

Dorian snorted. He didn't intend to, but he couldn't avoid it either. 'You read it. Yes. Of course.' The elf glowed, and Dorian decided to use at least a modicum of caution. 'I … that was excessive. Who taught you? Hawke?'

'Varric. Hawke offered, but I wouldn't let another pretentious mage get a laugh out of me.'

Dorian narrowed his eyes. 'Remind me why we're looking for him again.' Fenris's lips tightened. 'Every word you say sounds as if you despise the man. Why do this?'

'I … do not despise him.'

Dorian shrugged, spun again, and sighed. 'Well. I still don't fancy running off into the blue. I'd rather call. Hawke!' Fenris stared at Dorian as if he'd burst into dance. 'What? This is the Fade. There's no such thing as real distance.'

'No-one expects him to be alive. There's no point in calling.'

'Imagine how impressive this would have been if he had come.'

'You'd have got along with Hawke quite well.'

Dorian made a face. 'At the risk of this being the wrong thing to say, I didn't. We didn't talk too much, but when we did, we never agreed much. He was too … angry for my tastes. Too bitter. Kind of reminds me of someone. Hmm, who might that be?' Dorian had started to walk along the path. It was winding and strange but rather linear. 'On a different note, this part of the Fade is rather devoid of spirits.'

'Maybe they just don't want to be seen.'

'Possible. I'll tell you if I do sense anything. Trust me.'

'I don't.'

Dorian rolled his eyes. 'Whatever. We need to be alert. Fighting doesn't usually help there. I suggest we both shut up.'

'Your best idea so far.'

Smiling, Dorian allowed Fenris the last word. His attention was drawn to something farther along. He pointed wordlessly at the structure. 'Lenka didn't mention that. I do believe she would have.' He kept walking, waiting for an answer. When none came, he halted and turned. 'Fenris?'

'This was Danarius's mansion in Kirkwall.'

'That … is not good.'

'Why?' Fenris still stood rooted to the spot, staring at what Dorian had pointed out to him. 'It means Hawke may still live.'

Dorian had never been more certain that he didn't. He could tell the elf now that this was why a non-mage had no business being in the Fade, that he was, in fact, only a random man who needed to be protected. Dorian also decided he would say none of these things. 'Fenris …'

'I … do not know what to make of this.'

'Give me a moment, maybe we can ask. Shake me if something happens.' Dorian closed his eyes, hoping the elf wouldn't give him the slip and leave him vulnerable. While he couldn't sense a spirit without consciously trying, that didn't mean that none were there.

The kind of magic he needed wasn't the loud and flashing kind, it was something much more primal – not so much a summoning as an attempt to chat, like raising your hand just above your head in a vast lecture room and waiting to be addressed. He'd done it the first time he'd been in the Fade, too. His knowledge of the particular brand of magic that could charm a spirit out of hiding had been more than limited then, but still, it had worked. It worked again.

The spirit was little more than a wisp, but not the malevolent kind. It would turn into an actual spirit if no-one consumed its power. Dorian had no intention to do anything of the sort.

'What is that?' Fenris asked. Dorian felt the grasp on his arm and opened his eyes. Again, he could tell Fenris that he didn't need to be brought out of his concentration. Instead, he smiled.

'Ah, that was the plan. Thank you.' He faced the wisp that was hovering a few feet above the ground 'Hello. Could you tell me if a human was here?' The answer wasn't verbal, and Fenris made a face at the weird musical humming. Dorian interpreted it as a yes. 'Good. Where is he now?' Another hum. Longer. 'It says taken by the darkness. That … isn't a good answer.' He cleared his throat. 'Well … can we find what is left of him?' The wisp flared and shot towards the building. 'Yeah. That's what I feared. The way I interpret this, Hawke was consumed by the demon. He could buy the rest of them time to flee and lost his life.'

'I want proof, not noise from a demon.'

'This wasn't a demon any more than you're darkspawn. It was a bit unclear, however. These things aren't very precise when you question them. They don't see the world as we do.'

'I will investigate the mansion. If you're too craven, stay.'

Dorian gave an exasperated sigh. 'I'm just trying to keep us as safe as possible here. But we'll go have a look all right. I doubt we'll get a better answer, but we came for proof.' He turned away from the structure to face his companion. 'We need to be alert and prepared for anything. Demons are cunning, they get into your head. It can do it to me or to you. We cannot allow it.'

'Leave him alone, magister.' Hawke's voice was as sharp as a whip.

Before Dorian had turned to face the man, a spell had formed in his mind already. The human had no way of being so close without either of them seeing him approach. This was absolutely wrong. 'Stay back, Fenris.'

'You don't command him.' The man looked like Hawke, that much was certain. He even had the red smear over his nose. He also had the leer. 'He'd love to lay his hands on you, to use you as a guardian. To use you … otherwise.'

Dorian held his staff ready and faced Hawke, hoping that Fenris wouldn't fall so easily. 'It is a fear demon Lenka faced here. This is his doing.'

For a moment, Dorian thought Fenris hadn't even heard him, then the warrior shook himself. 'Hawke,' he said roughly. 'I will not let him. We have to return, we can deal with him then.'

'And give him a chance to escape?' Hawke – or whatever this thing was – walked past Dorian and reached out to cup Fenris's cheek. 'No. We need to kill him. Now. He will return you to Tevinter to face judgement or as his personal slave. I swore to protect you. No-one touches you.'

'Fenris, I don't want to take you anywhere except Skyhold, let alone as my or anyone's slave,' Dorian said sharply. 'This is a fear demon. Do not listen.'

With a huge effort, Fenris pulled back from Hawke. 'I … will not kill him. Not here.'

'Thanks.'

'Dorian,' Hawke said abruptly. 'I'm astounded how far you go to anger Tevinter. I'm impressed, really. That you would sacrifice your family …'

Without thinking about it, Dorian unleashed a bolt of lightning. Hawke was unimpressed. If he needed any proof that this was not, in fact, a human being, this was it. 'Fenris, I will attempt something. I don't know if it'll work in the Fade, but it just might.' He didn't wait for an answer, he just cast. He was causing havoc among those little things that dwelt here. The kind that Solas might sense.

'Sad how you condemn all your loved ones. Your father will be ousted from the magisterium if word gets out that you … fraternise with a slave.'

'I do not fraternise.' Dorian bit his tongue. He shouldn't answer, shouldn't let the thing get to him. His focus wavered, and he felt his nerves going. This wasn't good, his spell had worked but it might not be enough. 'Fenris, hold him.'

'You do not command me. And how dare you try to turn me against Hawke?'

'He's possessed or gone,' Dorian said, not really believing there was any point.

'Or you are,' Hawke said in a contemplative voice. 'Who is to say you are not an abomination, have fallen victim to the temptation that's festering in your country?'

'Not every mage is an abomination, even in Tevinter.'

'They all can become one,' Fenris said.

This wasn't going well at all. 'Yes, I could become an abomination,' he said, sounding more wary than he liked. 'And you could slaughter little children with that big sword of yours. Yet you don't.' Dorian cast again. A barrier spell, hoping it did him any good in the Fade.

Hawke backed away from them, out of the range of Fenris's sword. 'He is mine. You hold no sway over him. He'll destroy you. You will die here, and I will make sure you die in the real world as well. Mine is the word and the word is knowledge. Knowledge is power and power is rights that were wrested away.'

Fenris hadn't heard that last. Perhaps the demon hadn't even spoken except in Dorian's head. 'Old argument. Doesn't get better with years,' the elf said, his voice and posture threatening violence.

'True. You'd rip their hearts out rather than hew them asunder.' He wanted to protest, to yell at the demon that dying in the Fade would do nothing to him. But was that true? What could the lyrium markings do to Dorian when used in the Fade? He stared at the elf, at his aggressive stance. He made his decision quickly.

For the second time, he trapped Fenris in a cage of magic. For the second time, pure fury filled the elf and he tried to reach Dorian anyway. And Hawke watched. A tiny voice in Dorian's head tried to tell him that this was not, in fact, Hawke. That likely, Hawke wasn't even possessed but absorbed completely into the demon they had to face. None of that made it through into his conscious thoughts. He didn't have much time, the spell would wear off, and then Fenris would kill him. Dorian prepared to beat him to the punch. It was either him or Fenris.

Ϡ

After greeting the new arrivals quickly, Lenkala found Solas still standing in the centre of the room, eyes closed in concentration and a pained expression on his face. 'Solas.' She spoke softly, mindful not to break his focus.

'Something is not as it should be, I believe,' the elven mage said, his lips barely moving. 'There is a disruption, that might be Dorian's doing. As if he is struggling.'

'End this at once.'

Solas's eyes opened. 'I have tried to do so with their cooperation. But they do not heed me. If I force them out of the Fade, I could harm them.'

'How badly and how permanently?'

'Not permanently. They might have severe headaches for days, bad enough to incapacitate them.'

'Then end it.'

Eyes closing again, Solas brought his hands to his chest slowly as if physically drawing something towards him. When his eyes opened again, the two figures on the ground jerked to sudden wakefulness.

Lenkala wanted to ask them if all was well, but she never got to do so. Fenris glowed and jumped to his feet, entering a fighting stance, and Dorian made a grab for his staff. They were so intent on fighting each other they wouldn't hear Lenkala if she shouted, so she stepped between them, hoping the elf wouldn't simply kill her for being in the way. 'Get a grip, both of you!'

For a very long moment, the two men didn't seem to even see her. Then, Dorian averted his eyes. Fenris still glared at the mage, but he, too, relaxed. 'What happened?' Lenkala asked. Neither man answered. 'Dorian, speak.'

The Tevinter mage flinched. 'Hawke is gone. He has been destroyed by the fear demon. Absorbed, really.'

'Possessed by him, you mean?' she asked.

Dorian shook his head. 'No. I believe that the manifestation we saw that looked like Hawke was no real form, just a figment created by the demon.'

'And why were you fighting?'

'It took our existing prejudices and turned them into hatred.' The mage swallowed and finally met her eyes again. 'How did you not destroy each other?'

'He didn't try that with us. We all came trusting each other already, he'd have had a hard time. But he … got to us all. Are you both all right?'

Dorian nodded, but the elf shook his head. 'No,' he growled. 'I am not.' He made for the door, but Dorian stopped him with a hand on his arm. The other man tensed visibly.

'For what it's worth, I'm sorry for what happened to Hawke. And for … trying to kill you, too.'

Fenris opened the door that led to the throne room, but before he closed it behind him, he spoke again. 'I was under the same influence. I … need to be alone.'


	8. Cast Off the Works of Darkness

_((Chapter heading is Mendelssohn's _Lobgesang_ again._

_On a different note, I did proofread this, but at work. So there might be a couple of errors I didn't catch.))_

* * *

><p>Chapter 8<p>

Cast Off the Works of Darkness

The knock on the door to Cullen's room on the ramparts almost startled him. No-one ever knocked around here, people just came barging in. 'Er … yes?'

The two people that entered would be the pair Josephine had told him about. 'We … are Rhys and Evangeline,' the man said. 'We would ask for a moment of your time.' He looked like someone who desperately wanted to be elsewhere. Cullen couldn't blame him.

'Come in and close the door please, it's cold enough as is,' he said. The pair stepped inside and exchanged a glance. 'I've been told about you. What do you need?'

'We can come back later!' Evangeline said, but her expression suggested otherwise.

'Later … I don't know if there is a later.' He clapped his hands together. 'Look, you've come here, so talk to me. I don't have time to learn mind-reading.'

'Cole sent us,' Rhys said.

Cullen raised his eyebrows. 'Cole.' He frowned. 'I'll be blunt. In a few minutes I need to discuss my plans for moving our troops, including the Inquisitor, into the middle of nowhere. Ask what you need to ask, I'll answer if I can, then I go and do my best to bring everyone back alive. Or leave, but don't stand here, waiting for me to deduce what Cole, of all people, thinks I can do for you.'

Evangeline threw her arms in the air. 'I am pregnant. And a templar. Do you know one of us that produced a living child? I know I don't. Not a woman.'

Cullen's eyes closed and he sat down. He knew he looked as drawn as he felt, and for once he didn't care if he could hide it. 'Maker's breath,' he said. 'I see. I … well, all I can do for you is tell you that I … function. And that the side-effects of the withdrawal, in my case, don't include cramping.' He managed a smile. 'That is what you wanted to know, right?'

The woman nodded, looking at least a little relieved. 'Is there anyone we can turn to for help if we need it?'

'Out of the top of my head, First Enchanter Vivienne. I'll talk to her. She seems a little forbidding, but she'll help you, I'm sure.' He stood again and shrugged. 'I ask you not to speak of my own … affliction to her, however. This is something I believed only the Inquisitor knows.'

'I'm sure she didn't tell anyone,' Rhys said quickly. 'Cole knows things.'

'Yes. I'm trying not to worry about that. I really need to go now, but if … when I am back, we can talk. Also, there are a lot of people who will happily distract you. Mingle. Don't seclude yourself. And just a recommendation … when it shows, when the withdrawal starts draining your strength, tell people why you aren't your usual cheerful self. This isn't an easy secret to keep, and you don't have to. It's not like it's your fault.'

Ϡ

Dorian stared at the target. He ignored the biting cold of the wind that threatened to freeze his fingers. He ignored the other fighters. His entire world focussed on the enemy before him. He had the spell, was ready to cast any moment now. Something huge barrelled past him, and he released the energy, left hand closing to a fist and yanking down, right hand with palm in front shoving at thin air. The target froze solid, and less than a second later, The Iron Bull crashed into it, his weight and momentum enough to shatter it to a thousand pieces. Dorian cheered.

The qunari grinned at him and approached, brushing pieces of straw off himself. A few of the soldiers practicing near them looked slightly worried, and sometimes Dorian wondered if they still expected him to turn on them next. 'Cullen's not going to like what we do to the targets,' Bull said.

'I think we can stop. This time we got it, don't you think?'

'Yes. The timing was good.'

'It wasn't just _good_, Bull, it was perfect.'

'Almost.'

'Suck it up.'

'You'd like that, wouldn't you?'

Dorian rolled his eyes. 'Let's go somewhere warmer. I'm frozen through. How does anyone survive here?'

'Well, they aren't as soft as you Vints. People come home here, they light their own fires. They don't come home to find everything nice and cosy because their slaves have done all their work for them already.'

Dorian made a face. 'Can we please not talk about this?'

Bull, for once, just nodded and headed towards the tavern. Dorian stopped him with a hand on his arm. 'Ah, and can we go somewhere else?'

Bull made a face. 'Dorian, what's going on with you? You've been weird all day. Cracked your head in the Fade or what?'

'Not out here. Library. If you want to hear.'

'Why the library? You always stay up there, getting even more bookish than you already are.'

'It's upstairs, Bull. It's warm there. The higher up, the more warmth you get from below.'

'Poser.'

'Hater.'

'Yeah. Well.'

Dorian grinned. 'Bull, you're impossible.' By the time they reached the library, Dorian had decided not to ask the question he had almost asked. He would deal with this some other way.

'So … what's wrong with you? You're not feeling right?'

'I'm fine.'

'Right, be like that.' Bull stood. 'Because you don't need anyone. A magister never needs anyone.'

'I am not a magister!' Dorian swallowed. He hadn't intended to yell. 'I … I don't know … I'm sorry.' He sat heavily on the chair in the corner he had secured for himself. 'I think you should go.'

Bull sighed and walked away. Dorian buried his head in his hands and wanted nothing more than to sink into the ground. At a thud right in front of him, he looked again. Bull had snatched another chair from someone and placed it in front of Dorian. 'So that's out of your system. Good. I'll ask again. What is wrong with you?'

'You're going on my nerves.'

'I do my best, mage.'

Dorian swallowed. 'Bull … why don't you hate me? And I don't mean why are you not refusing to work with me, but … why do you bother spending time with me outside the fighting and the training? I am everything your people despise.'

'You may have missed that, but I am not part of that people anymore.' The growl in his voice was there, but only slightly. It still rankled Bull to have been declared tal-vashoth, even if he preferred that to the death of his Chargers. Dorian just looked at him. This wasn't an answer. 'I can't tell you. How should I? You seem fine, and unless you're really good at acting, I've got no problem with you.' He leaned forwards. 'You're here because you don't get along with your people. Honest opinion? I don't think you'll ever go back. You keep saying it, but I doubt it. You don't want to.'

'I should. I should go and make things right. Stop these … these motherfuckers from producing people like Fenris!' He balled a fist in helpless fury.

Bull blinked and burst into laughter. 'I'm a bad influence on you, I'll tell you that.' He sobered. 'This about the elf, then.'

'I always thought it wasn't so bad. I thought … I thought it's a system. I told Lenka as much. That people sell themselves to the nobility to get out of the squalor they would have lived in otherwise. Better than the alienages of the south at any time.' He rose and walked to the shelf he had claimed as his and produced a book. 'This agrees with me. Adds that sure, there are those that were brought from abroad, elves mostly. Torn from their previous lives with no regard to their families. To be used for blood magic, in some cases. Sacrifices. And this,' he tapped the book, 'sanctions that as well. They were also taken from impoverished places, you see. You can't go and steal a teyrn. So what's the problem? Yeah, someone might miss them, but their lives weren't that good to begin with. And the servants in Minrathous aren't that bad off, are they?' The mage's voice was dripping disgust. 'I never … I never thought about this! Lenka talked to me right after we met, and she called me on the sheer absurdity of the concept. I disagreed, I sulked, but I thought about it.

'I wish I hadn't because she's right, Bull. This … this isn't.' He hurled the book away with such force it sailed clear over the fencing in the centre. 'If you go and abolish the bad kind of slavery, though, the one with only the stolen slaves, send them back home, you're left with very few. Meaning you'd cause the nobility, the magisters, to spell it out, to force more of our not-so-rich people into it. By goading them, threatening them, or by simply using blood magic to make them think it's what they want. If you free them all – not that that will _ever_ happen – what then? They'd need somewhere to live, to begin with, and I can tell you no-one would care to help them for a second. Then we'd have slums, worse than here. There is no way out.

'And do you know what's worst? I know it's wrong, and I can't do anything. If I try, I'll likely be murdered sooner or later and I don't know if I am ready to risk that. I hate this. And all I can do is rant at you.'

Bull took a deep breath. 'And you really asked me why I don't hate you?'

Dorian shrugged and looked away, noticing Solas standing beside him.

'Hello, Dorian. I assume this is yours.' He offered the book Dorian had thrown, his expression dignified as always. Dorian looked away.

'Teach Cole to fold little animals out of paper with it, keep it, burn it, whatever.' He stood abruptly. 'I need air. More practice, Bull?'

'Fickle mage. Sure you can take it?'

'Suck it … Never mind.'

Ϡ

For once, Lenkala was alone at the war table, trying to work out a strategy. She would discuss it with the others, of course, but first, she needed to work out how she wanted this done.

Jowan had marked an old temple in the middle of nowhere, crumbling and forsaken. They were ready to move, Cullen's people as well as Leliana's, each with their own tasks. To determine these, was Lenkala's job.

The truth was, she was stalling. This had to go right. They had to outrun and outwit an ancient darkspawn. And then … then they would have to deal with the Archdemon.

The path through the Arbor Wilds was winding and generally difficult to navigate. It seemed Jowan would know his way, so she had to take him with her. She certainly didn't want to go into the temple with too many people. A handful would suffice. Jowan was a must.

The door was opened almost tentatively. By that alone she knew who it was and looked up with a smile. 'Hello, Cole.'

'I wanted to ask you something.' He looked shy, not quite meeting her eyes. He was like that whenever he wanted something for himself.

Lenkala walked around the table to stand in front of him. 'Ask away.'

'I … don't want to be left here. When you go to the temple.'

'Oh, Cole, the one thing I can't grant you,' Lenkala said gently.

The young man looked utterly dejected. 'I don't need you to protect me. I am not a child!'

Shaking her head, Lenkala took his hands. 'That's not what I was thinking. And you know that.' He met her eyes, a scowl on his face that had never been there before he had become more human. 'I need you here. I am taking Jowan and perhaps Blackwall.'

'Solas. Please. Take Solas. And me.'

'I can't take him, either.' The truth was, Lenkala found that two mages were more than enough. 'Look, it's good that I catch you alone. I ask you to take care that Dorian and Fenris don't get within ten feet of each other; or into the same room, really. And I ask you to report to Solas if either of them develops a headache. You'd sense that, wouldn't you?'

'Yes.' Cole frowned. 'But Solas said they'll be all right. I asked. You need him, Lenka. You need me.'

The sheer urgency of the young man made her wonder. 'Why?'

'This place you're going to … it's old and elven. So you need Solas.' Lenkala smiled at him.

'And you? Why you, Cole?'

'Because you trust me most.' Despite herself, Lenkala laughed and brushed her thumb over the hand she still held.

'You know me much too well. If you insist, I'll take you with me. And Solas.'

Cole beamed at her. 'Good. We won't let you get hurt. Dorian and Fenris don't need me, and they … they are both so afraid it is hard to be near them. They are both powerful. Why is there so much fear in them?'

Lenkala sighed and sat down on the floor, leaning against the wall. Cole mirrored her. 'I'm not certain,' she said. 'Fenris was a slave and ran away, I gather. He fears Dorian for what he represents. Tevinter, the magisterium … any of that.'

'Dorian is an Altus.'

'For now. And Dorian … fears Fenris on a different level.'

'Like a mirror. With no mercy, showing every blemish, the whole truth, making it more prominent than it actually is.'

'Yes. Like that.' She tilted her head to the side. 'You know better than I do. Why ask?'

'It is … sometimes difficult, and I am not always sure I'm right.'

'Cole … did I do the wrong thing?'

The smile Lenkala received was as warm as the sun on a summer day. 'No. This is better. Evangeline remembers me.' The door opened again, with considerably more force, and revealed Lenkala's advisors, including Jowan. 'I'd better go. You know where I am.'

Ϡ

'This is it,' Lenkala said. What Blackwall referred to as her extended inner circle was gathered in the courtyard, waiting for her to give orders. 'Cassandra and Vivienne, you help Cullen. Blackwall, I need you with me. I … what?' A murmur had gone through the handful of people, and Lenkala turned. Someone drew closer in full armour with a sword and shield. Inside the armour was not a warrior but Jowan. 'What?' she asked again.

'You need only me, aside from some fire power.'

'I … what do you think you're doing? How would you cast?'

The answer came from Solas. 'Quite easily.' The elf approached Jowan, his mouth slightly open. 'How do you know such magic? It is not like Vivienne's.'

'This is … elven magic. You're right.'

'Are you able to control it?'

Jowan smiled. 'I've been controlling it for quite a while now.'

Solas turned and looked at Lenkala. 'You do not need Blackwall. Jowan can handle half an army if he know what he's doing.'

Lenkala was only partly reluctant. Cullen needed good commanders, and it had been difficult to decide between Cassandra and Blackwall. 'Very well. Blackwall, you also report to Cullen. Sera, you're with Leliana's people. Don't get hurt.'

'Nah.'

'Bull, take care she doesn't do anything reckless.' Lenkala folded her arms and winked at Sera, who was sticking out her tongue. 'Dorian, you stay here. I can't take you. I'm sorry.'

'Yes … I know. Potential debilitating migraines in the middle of a battle aren't what you need.'

'Varric … You stay here, too. While these red templar idiots piled rocks on the path, they managed to infect it. I want that red lyrium gone when we return.'

The dwarf grinned at her. 'I'll see to it.'

'Solas, Cole … you're with Jowan and me.' Both nodded. 'Well … Good luck. To all of you.'


	9. Take Up the Armour of Light

_((I digress from the way this goes in canon a bit. One reason is that it's a while ago I did this and I had a completely different group (aside from Cole). Now while I could try and get Solas's dialogue either from my savegame by doing this again with him, or by writing it down off youtube, I believe that if you have Jowan instead of Morrigan, the entire thing will be different. I did listen to some scenes to get my data, but nothing is quoted directly. At least I made no effort to do so except for the last bit._

_Chapter heading is basically the next line of the same piece in Mendelsohn's _Lobgesang_.))_

* * *

><p>Chapter 9<p>

Take Up the Armour of Light

'I told you!' Lenkala was staring the closed door, for once with fear in her eyes. 'I said it couldn't be and it wasn't!'

'Lenka … We're all alive.'

'Yes, Cole. We are.' She tore her gaze away from the huge door. 'I just hope they'll be all right. There's a freaking Archdemon loose out there.'

Jowan had moved ahead a few paces. 'I'm worried, too, but we need to follow this woman. Corypheus is still there, and we still have to find … that Well of Sorrows, whatever it is, exactly.'

'Yes. Let's move on. There's fighting ahead of us.'

'Let me take a look,' Cole said. 'Stay back.' Without waiting for her command, the young man slipped into the shadows and moved ahead. Lenkala could still see him. Unobtrusive and invisible weren't the same thing. She just hoped he was aware of his being too human to completely vanish, but she would trust him on this.

They didn't have to wait long. 'They're gone. There's been a fight, they … uh.'

'Sorted themselves out?' she suggested.

Corypheus's agents had apparently taken a direct path through the ground. There was also the way worshippers would take: pass certain rituals to open the way. Lenkala was torn. Cole had seen the guardians of the temple fight Corypheus's bitch, but those that had been here lay dead. They could just run after their target and maybe die at their hands. Or they could try to outwit rather than outrun them. Unable to decide, she turned to Solas, just raised her hands in a shrug.

'I do not recommend we follow the example set by Corypheus's minion,' the elf said.

Lenkala agreed. 'The long way, then.' She walked to the door on the left. There, they found a similar tiled path that had been outside. 'More of that, it seems.' She walked around the platform.

'Wait here.' Jowan had taken it all in with a frown, now he walked up the stairs. 'I believe I know what to do.' They watched the mage systematically activating the tiles. When he returned, he smiled. 'Easy, really.'

'Next one's mine,' Lenkala said. 'Don't you think you can have all the fun.'

'Oh, sure, you go ahead.'

The next one, through a door to the right from where they had started, was simpler. 'I want the last one, too, I think. This was hardly fair.'

Jowan chuckled. 'All right.'

The last one was more complex than the previous two. The two mages exchanged a glance. 'Together?' Lenkala suggested.

'How would you … Oh, I'll wait over there … hang on.' He clambered up to the portion dividing the two sets of tiles and ambled along. 'Off with you!'

'Between you two one would think this is a game,' Solas commented.

Lenkala smiled at him. 'Trust you to remind me it isn't.' She met Jowan at the division. 'Don't ruin my efforts, human.'

'I'll try not to trip over my own clumsy feet.'

Lenkala moved back to her companions while Jowan completed the ritual. When he re-joined them, he made a face. 'Now let's hope the door's open. If not, I'm at a bit of a loss.'

'We'll find a way.'

'There's still the hole in the ground,' Cole said. 'But I don't want to go that way.'

'We all don't, I should think,' Lenkala replied. 'And the door opens.'

The hall they stepped into was huge, larger than anything she had ever seen before. 'This place is amazing,' she muttered. Cole clutched her wrist and pointed. A lone figure was prowling on a balcony at the far end of the hall. 'Oh.' She heard something behind them but didn't turn. 'We're being watched, I believe.'

'Trespassers.' The man on the balcony stopped. 'But not like the others. You are one of the elvhen. So is the mark you bear.' He paused and folded his arms, facing them. 'Your arrival just after the other invaders is not a coincidence. What is your intention?'

'To stop them,' Lenkala said. 'They cannot be allowed to get what they seek.'

The features of the elf on the balcony softened, if only a little. 'I am called Abelas. We are the guardians of this temple. We awake only to defend it. With every invasion, our number is diminished; with every time we wake up, the world more foreign than before.' He took up his pacing again, scowling at the ground before his feet as he did so. 'I know what you seek. You and the invaders, and all those before either of you. You wish to drink of the Vir'abelasan.'

Lenkala shot Jowan a glance, but the mage merely shrugged. 'He can only mean the Well of Sorrows.' There it was again. Not an eluvian, but, as they had found out only on entering the temple, a well. But whatever it was, if Corypheus wanted it this badly, they had to do all they could to stop him from getting it.

'The what?' Lenkala asked out loud.

'It is not for you. Only for those who toiled in Mythal's favour.'

Lenkala turned. 'Solas … would you?'

'Would I do what? Tell this man to stop doing what has been his destiny for millennia?'

'No … No, I suppose not … Abelas … We have passed this door. We have performed the rituals.'

'True. You have honoured the sacred rites. You are permitted to follow the intruders and destroy them. But the Vir'abelasan is not yours to take. It must be destroyed.'

Solas took a step forwards so he was beside her. 'Is that not what we have come for? We do not have to fight these sentinels.'

'I know I don't want to,' Jowan said.

Lenkala smiled at Solas and his apparent discomfort at the mere thought. 'Nor do I. Can you lead us to them, Abelas?'

'One of my sentinels will. I shall see you there.'

Ϡ

There were bad things. There were really messed up things. And there was red lyrium.

Varric had intended to get rid of the stuff on his own, but apparently the local wildlife, such as it was, had decided to get infected and hang around near it. He'd need help. With so many gone, he wouldn't call the remaining soldiers from their duties. Instead, he fetched a servant. 'Do me a favour and pry Dorian out of whatever book he crawled into this time. Tell him I need him.' The young elven girl looked horrified. 'Oh, come on, he won't bite you. Off you go.' Shaking his head at the retreating kid, he walked into the tavern and upstairs. 'Fenris! Fancy getting rid of some vile magic?' he called. The elf appeared almost immediately. 'Thought so. There's things out there stopping me from removing the red lyrium on the path. Mind giving me a hand?'

'With the things or the lyrium?'

'Both. Actually, this is what I wanted to ask you. There's more of that stuff around, and I want it gone. Lenka said I could take care of it, but this isn't something the inquisition has time for.'

'I'll help you.'

'You're staying then?'

'For now. Corypheus needs to be dealt with. What is _he _doing here?_'_ Varric followed Fenris's glare and found Dorian.

Varric swatted at him. 'Helping. I don't like going out there without a mage, and at the moment, he's the only one who's here. Look, this'll only take a minute.'

Dorian was waiting for them, leaning against the gate with his arms folded. 'Oh?'

'Don't even start,' Varric warned him.

'I wasn't going to.'

'Try not to kill each other. I'd hate to have to explain that to Lenka.'

Fenris seemed to decide he could live with the situation Varric had put him into. The dwarf took that as a good sign. 'Where did she get the nickname from?' Fenris asked.

Varric grinned. 'She didn't like Sera's. Lennie. So she said if she's going to be nicknamed it will be Lenka.'

'Lenkala Lavellan does have a stuttering sound to it, doesn't it?' Dorian offered. 'Lenka is smoother.'

Varric pointed ahead of them. 'Fenris, would you mind dealing with those leopards or whatever there?'

The warrior took off in their direction. Dorian closed his eyes and made a gesture. 'Excessive,' Fenris called back.

'You're welcome,' Dorian answered, falling into step beside Varric to follow the elf. 'I'd advise you to keep away from this stuff.' He shot the offending protrusion of red lyrium a glare.

'Watch him,' Varric advised. Dorian did, fascination clear of his face. There had only been three leopards that had apparently decided this was a good place to linger. Now there was one, Fenris making short work of them. 'He's good, isn't he?' The last animal came flying in their direction. Dorian ducked as the animal struck the red lyrium, smashing it in the process. A fragment collided with his shoulder, but since he could still curse, it didn't seem too bad.

'I'd agree, if I'd been able to keep track. All I can tell you is that he's bloody _fast_.' He looked at his shoulder, where the red lyrium had grazed him, the fabric of his robes slowly reddening. 'Ow.'

'You all right?'

'Yes. I'm not that fragile. Now what?'

'We clear this mess away.'

'Away?' Fenris made a wide gesture encompassing their surroundings. 'Where would you have us all carry it?'

'Not carry. We'll throw it off the path. That's quite a bit of a drop here, and there's no vegetation down there.'

Dorian didn't look convinced. 'Yeah, well, it'll grow again, won't it? It would be a while before it's a problem again, though. By then we may have a clue how to get rid of it for good. Or organise a way to transport it … elsewhere.'

'Where d'you suggest?' Varric asked, starting to roll a chunk towards the edge of the path.

'Tevinter comes to mind, in case they don't learn their lesson. They might even buy it. I'll talk to Josephine, this might actually work. Idiots.'

'That would be convenient. An army like that and no-one would threaten your magisters' dominion ever again.'

Dorian scratched his head at Fenris's remark. 'I doubt the ever-again-part. More like a couple of weeks, until they die out because it kills them, leaving only those with a brain behind. Ah, Fenris, I'd really not touch the red lyrium if I were you.'

'Why?' The simple question sounded like a threat.

Dorian replied patiently enough. 'Because the tainted lyrium might react with you. I'm not talking death, the magic of your markings would protect you from that, but I'm talking agony for at least a few days.'

'And how would you know?'

'Research. It's what I do when I'm not busy conspiring or sacrificing slaves. Let's get this over with, shall we?'

Ϡ

Lenkala generally considered herself patient, although the last few days had been trying. Now, Solas, Jowan, and Abelas were debating, however peacefully, over what was to happen with the Well of Sorrows while blood was still flowing from Calpernia's corpse. At least the woman had had the courtesy to introduce herself before dying. Lenkala's eyes were fixed on the eluvian that stood behind the pool of water, just a few steps away. 'You know, I'd like a say, too,' she said at last, receiving a slight smile from Solas. 'Abelas … Jowan's right, there will come more. And we need help, every little help we can get.' Again, she looked to Solas.

This time, he didn't refuse to speak. 'There are other duties. More of the people.'

'Like you?'

'Yes,' Solas said, and there was another minute smile on his face, 'like me.'

Abelas looked at the three mages in turn. Then his lips tightened. 'If you truly seek to use the wisdom of the Vir'abelasan to defeat Corypheus … it is yours.' He started towards the exit.

'Are you leaving the temple?' Lenkala asked.

'There is nothing left for us here.'

'There is a place for you, _lethallin_. If you seek it.'

Abelas halted and turned back to nod at Solas. 'Perhaps there are places the _shemlen_ have not touched. It may be that only _uthenra_ awaits us, the blissful sleep of eternity, never to awaken. If fate is kind.'

Lenkala made a step towards Abelas. 'You could come with us, fight Corypheus. He killed your people.'

'We killed ourselves. Long ago.'

'_Malas amelin ne halam, Abelas._'

Abelas offered Solas a curt nod and walked away. Lenkala, Jowan, and Cole stared at Solas. The mage spoke without another prompt. 'His name, Abelas, means sorrow. I said I hoped he finds a new name.'

Lenkala smiled and squeezed Solas's shoulder. 'So. Here's the well. Now one of us will have to do this.'

'Not me.' Solas had rarely sounded so sure of anything. 'Nor should you.'

'And why not?'

Jowan smiled. 'Same reason we couldn't send you to the Fade. We don't know what will happen to you.'

Solas's expression was hard to read. He fixed the Grey Warden for almost a minute as if trying to see his intentions. 'Are you willing?'

Jowan stared at the water and swallowed. 'I've swallowed worse stuff more or less willingly. I think I can handle water.'

'You don't have to,' Lenkala offered.

He laughed. 'Don't I? There's no alternative.' He walked towards the pool and took a deep breath. 'Well … Here goes nothing.' He walked down, the water rippling around his legs. He turned and faced them, opened his mouth as if to speak, but nothing came. The mage curled in on himself until he was completely submerged.

'He'll drown!' Lenkala said and started towards him, but Solas grabbed her arm to stop her.

'No, he won't. Watch.'

Ceasing to struggle, she did. And then, the water was gone, and Jowan collapsed. The grip on her arm vanished and they all three started towards the mage. He opened his eyes, shook his head, and muttered incomprehensible words that might be ancient elvhen. He shook himself again. 'All right …' Solas helped him to his feet. 'Oh, thanks … just a moment, my head's spinning.'

'Now what do we …'

'Out.' Cole's voice was so shocked that Lenkala fell silent immediately and looked at the young man. 'We must get out. Now. He's coming.' Black smoke was forming at their feet, but that wasn't where he was looking. He stared towards where they'd come from, and suddenly, Lenkala didn't need to see. Corypheus had followed them.

'The eluvian!' Jowan shouted. His voice was high with terror, but still he moved and steered Lenkala with him while activating it with a spell. 'Thank the Maker it's working.' He attempted to shove her through, but she evaded him, waiting until all the others were gone. The moment she stepped inside, she thought the figure of a woman rose from the well. But that was impossible, of course. On the other side, Jowan deactivated his own eluvian. 'Shortcut,' he said. He made a face. 'That's what I get for complaining that life in the circle tower was boring. I should have kept my mouth shut.'


	10. Light In the Darkness

_((This took a while for two reasons. One was that I was alone in my department last week and had to do the work three people normally do. What's more is that I had to figure out what I want to do at the very end, or rather if I intend to go through with my first idea.))_

* * *

><p>Chapter 10<p>

Light In the Darkness

'So you're from Tevinter?' Rhys's curiosity was obvious, he knew. Dorian didn't seem to mind.

'Yes.' His eyes narrowed. 'I dare you ask me if I'm a blood mage.'

Rhys folded his arms. 'You dare me? What will you do if I ask?'

'Scowl at you, most likely. And that might cause me to get wrinkles, imagine that.'

'I wouldn't want to risk that. Now let me take a look at that wound. You got that … when?'

'Four days ago.' Dorian had finally decided that he needed help. He wasn't much of a healer, and the head nurse in the infirmary wouldn't be able to do more than he. He needed a mage.

'Odd. How did you get that injury?'

'I stood next to a piece of rock that was shattered. Idiotic, it's what we went to do.'

'Rock?'

'Red lyrium.'

Rhys sighed. 'All right. I'll try a healing spell.'

Dorian shrugged and regretted the motion at once. Every movement of his shoulder sent a jolt of pain through his entire body. The spell whispered over him and did nothing. 'Not good,' Rhys commented. 'When did the bleeding stop?'

'After a couple of hours, perhaps, but it's still not healing. Now don't tell me I'll run around with a hole in my shoulder for the rest of my life.'

'I hope not. This is going to hurt.'

Dorian braced himself as Rhys held his arm in a firm grip and placed his palm on the wound. Again, he felt Rhys's spell, but this time, it felt as if a thousand needles were digging into his flesh. He held his breath and managed not to make a sound.

'Did you try the infirmary?'

'Yes,' Dorian grated. 'They said there's nothing in the wound so I should be fine.'

'They were wrong. A small splinter is in there, but I can't pull it out.'

For a few seconds, Dorian managed to ignore the impact of the other mage's words. Then he closed his eyes, fighting the urge to scream or cry like a child. 'You're saying,' he said hoarsely, 'that this … this thing is stuck in me.' He swallowed and opened his eyes, fixing them on Rhys. 'Do you know what you are saying?'

'I am sorry. I … truly am.'

'Cut it out, then. Generously, if you must.'

Rhys shook his head. 'I can't. It's lodged behind your shoulder. If I did that, the injury would kill you.'

'Better than this. Do you even know what this will do to me?'

Rhys bit his bottom lip. 'Trust me, I know.'

'Then there's only one thing I can do. Just … not yet. Perhaps I can say goodbye to Lenka.'

'Dorian …'

He shook his head. 'I won't wait until I lose my mind and hurt my friends. I just want her to hear this from me. They should be back soon. If they're still alive. I need to know that first.' He stood abruptly, a flicker of hope igniting his eyes. 'Lodged, you say? Well … Perhaps someone with mechanical skill can help more than a mage.'

Ϡ

Varric liked to think of himself as independent. He didn't need anyone's approval, didn't care what others thought of him. And yet, Fenris was avoiding him, and it rankled the dwarf. Yes, he'd tricked him, but all he wanted was people to get along. He'd done the same with Dorian and The Iron Bull, and those two were thick as thieves now. Only Fenris wasn't The Iron Bull. Nor was he Dorian, who, to be fair, had been more sceptical of the qunari than the other way round. Hard to believe though it was, the elf apparently had a thicker skull than the other two together.

At first, Varric had wanted to leave the stubborn man alone, let him come when he would. But Fenris was alone in a place full of strangers, and he liked the stupid bugger too much to ignore him for long. When Lenkala returned from her expedition, and that could be any time, Maker knew what she'd decide to do with Fenris. If Núria got any say, kick him out most likely. He hadn't talked to the Warden, but he'd heard her talk about Fenris. Apparently he'd wreaked havoc in Vigil's Keep.

With a curse, Varric left his spot in the great hall and marched over to the tavern. There, he found Fenris at a table with the templar Evangeline. Well, at least he wasn't avoiding everyone. When she noticed Varric, she gave Fenris a lingering look before walking away. 'What was that about?' Varric asked.

'She and her mage are in the room next to mine. She had a … fit of some sort when he was gone.'

Varric glanced after her. 'Oh? Any idea why?'

'Lyrium withdrawal. And she's pregnant.'

'Oh sweet Andraste. Poor soul.'

Fenris scowled at him. 'What do you want?'

'I'm not going to apologise, Fenris. But I want you to know that I really didn't do this to upset you.'

'There is another mage here, and you knew that. You lied. There was no need to bring Pavus.'

'Rhys was with Evangeline! And they'd only just arrived here, they were worn out. Did you look at them when they came here?'

Fenris made a face and looked away. Then he surged to his feet and stared down at Varric. For a moment the dwarf thought the elf would hit him. 'You don't know when to stop being broody, do you, Broody?' Varric made a dismissive gesture and turned, finding Dorian approaching them. At least it explained Fenris's sudden reaction.

The mage was pale and his face shining with sweat. It struck Varric then that he hadn't seen him in days, either, but that wasn't so unusual. Sometimes he dug himself into a project and only emerged a week later. Varric ignored Fenris and rushed towards the mage. 'Dorian? What's wrong with you?'

'I need your help. And if you can't help, I'll die.'

Varric's eyes went wide. 'What … do you want me to do?'

'I want you to take one of your tongs and pull a shard of red lyrium out of my shoulder.' The words hit Varric with the force of a rock wraith. He sat heavily on the closest chair.

'No. Tell me this is some sick sort of joke.'

The mage merely shook his head. 'I wish it were.'

'I … shouldn't have dragged you into this. This is my fault.'

'You didn't force me to stand right next to that tusk of weirdness, Varric.' Dorian was calm, so calm despite his visible fear. Varric couldn't help admiring him.

'I'll try,' he said. 'Come on upstairs. You'll be all right.' Just when he started to lead the way, a guard announced that Lenkala had arrived through the eluvian.

Dorian changed direction, heading for the door. 'Let's see her, I'll tell her …'

Varric seized Dorian's arm. 'You'll tell her nothing whatsoever, Sparkler. Upstairs. Now. Lenka can wait.'

Ϡ

It would be a while before the rest of their people would arrive from the Arbor Wilds. Lenkala was already making up her mind how and where to attack next to defeat Corypheus for good. Jowan had a different problem entirely. He had doubted that there was much behind the sentinels' warnings, hadn't given much thought to being subjected to the whims of a long-gone elven goddess. But now … now he heard her. Not too clearly, but there was a presence in his head.

Jowan had always been cautious. He had learned blood magic from Uldred rather than a demon, had never summoned one and wasn't going to. He was a free man and intended to remain one. Now, he feared, that might no longer be the case.

Perhaps Solas could tell, perhaps even the strange young man named Cole. But what if this thing in his head wasn't the benevolent Dalish goddess but a demon? No. No, he refused to believe that he was or would ever be an abomination.

Jowan decided that he needed air. He walked out on the ramparts and sat down on them, underneath him a sheer fall. Heights had never scared him. It would be so easy … If he truly was in the grasp of a demon, it seemed like a logical solution. But he needed to be certain before he threw his life away. 'Not like this,' he said into the silence. 'Not now, not me.' He closed his eyes and focussed on the voice in his head. Here, with no distractions, it was easier. Not that he understood the words, but there was an impulse that wanted him to take certain actions. Go to the altar of Mythal … summon Mythal … and then, he didn't know. What he did have was a sense of certainty that if he did this, it would be the key to defeating Corypheus's dragon.

Scrunching up his face, Jowan rubbed his temples. Whatever it was that directed his thoughts, it gave him the certainty that this dragon was not an Archdemon. Relief flooded him at that revelation. They hadn't failed, all those years ago. Morrigan hadn't died for nothing. 'Daddy?' He opened his eyes and turned, slipping from his precarious place on the edge of the wall. 'You're back!' the girl said joyfully. Smiling, Jowan lifted Darya into his arms.

'Yes, my darling. And the others will come back soon, too. Did anything happen while we were gone?'

'Dorian got sick, but Rhys is taking care of him, I think.'

'That elf still here? Fenris?'

'Yes. But aunt Núria told me to stay away from him. She said he'd been a captive in Vigil's Keep and that he's angry and unpredictable.'

Jowan couldn't help laughing. 'She's one to talk. Never met anyone as unpredictable as our dear Núria. But stay clear of him all the same.'

'Why is he angry?'

Jowan would have shrugged if he hadn't been carrying the girl, making his way back down to somewhere warmer. 'I never asked, to be honest. Lenkala seems to care, let her do that.' He looked at the kid. 'On a different note, what did we say about the ramparts?'

'I shouldn't go without you, but you're here.'

'You knew that?'

'The guard saw you. Daddy, you're different.'

Jowan swallowed, his fear that he was possessed by a demon returning with full force. 'How?' he managed.

'I don't know. More like me.'

He set her down and knelt on the cold hard ground, bringing him to her eyelevel. 'Can you be more specific?'

'I'm not like other mages. I told Aisling once, and she said I couldn't tell anyone that. She said I should ask you, but the next time you came was when we had to run.' There was no accusation in Darya's voice, but still the words felt almost physically painful. 'She also said you couldn't come often because the templars wanted you dead.'

'Aisling said that?' He had hoped his friend would keep that part from Darya as long as possible, but she had apparently found it better to let her know than keep her in the dark why her parents only visited so rarely and never without an armed escort.

Darya nodded at his question. 'She never said why, though.'

'I'll tell you. I promise. When Corypheus is dead, I'll tell you everything.' Never keep secrets. Secrets had been his downfall. Darya smiled, and Jowan's world lit up. 'So. How am I more like you?'

'I have magic, but sometimes … I can do things others can't. Without a staff. And so can you, now. I think. But different. If you think hard enough, you can know things. I can make them happen?'

'What sort of things can you make happen, Darya?' Jowan was proud of how casual his tone was. He had never been more relieved that the girl was far away from templars. The dangerous kind of templars anyway.

The girl shrugged. 'Nothing fancy, you know. Just lights. Annie could do lights, too, but her lights were spirits.'

'Can you show me your lights?'

'Sure, when it's dark. They're just sparks, but they don't go out unless I want them to.'

'I'm pretty sure you can do more than that if you practice. I don't know if I can teach you that in particular, though.' He ruffled her hair. 'I want to see your lights, my sweet. Now … anything else I should know?'

Darya shrugged. 'No. How long before the others come back?'

Jowan blew out his cheeks. 'A couple of days?'

'Are they all right, if they weren't with you?'

He couldn't help but chuckle at the confidence Darya had in him. 'Yes. I … you know, I can't tell you how, but I do know they're all right.'

'Of course. That's what you can do now. Know things.'

Jowan picked Darya up again. 'Well … I know that I'm starved. I know that Mommy isn't going to be home today, so you're stuck with me. I know that no-one here has time to play with you on any normal day anyway. I know … I know that tomorrow I have to be back to fighting Corypheus. So tonight I'm all yours. What do you want to do?'

'Can we explore the castle? I wanted to go in the cellar but there's spiders.'

'Oh? Spiders you say? They're no match for me. I'll know where they are before even they do!'

Darya laughed, squirming in his arms. 'And … Can you teach me a healing spell? Aisling said she would, she said she taught you, too.'

'And very patiently at that. Of course I'll teach you. Any you show me your sparks.'

Darya giggled and held on to him tightly. So much he realised she must have been mortally afraid while he was gone. He wanted to promise her that he'd always be there, that she would never be alone, but he couldn't know. Instead, he held her in turn and prayed silently that she would always be safe and loved, whether he was able to be there for her or not.


	11. Don't Dare Me to Breathe

_((Chapter heading is from the R.E.M. song _Try Not to Breathe_. I can't for the life of me think of anything else.))_

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><p>Chapter 11<p>

Don't Dare Me to Breathe

Lenkala didn't allow herself much rest. She had to press on, to make the final move against Corypheus. The one thing she would wait for was the return of her troops from the Arbor Wilds.

Only what would happen after Corypheus was gone was beyond her. Dorian was living on borrowed time. Varric hadn't been able to help him, and the mage's spells had no effect on the small shard buried in his shoulder. Cole was wrecked by his own inability to help, had offered the mage to take his life if it got worse, and to Lenkala's horror, Dorian had agreed. The worst part was that she couldn't blame him. She would do the same in his place. He had, however, expressed a desire to see this mission through. He wanted to be part of it, and Lenkala was prepared to let him. Only she didn't trust him to judge his ability to function.

Cole was sometimes tricky to find. Although visible, he was now mingling more. Before the encounter with the templar that had left him for dead, he had remained in his room above the tavern often, and she could usually find him there. Now, he was spending more time with others. The thing was, it seemed he always found her. He had said before that he couldn't read her because of her mark, but a part of him knew when she needed him. So Lenkala decided to test that theory. She went to her quarters and looked at a smaller version of the map in the war room, wondering when her troops would return and where to face Corypheus.

She must have fallen asleep, the exhaustion finally claiming her. When she woke up, it was dark, but a candle was lit by her window. She smiled. 'I knew you'd come.' Turning in her chair, she found Cole on the window sill, hugging his knees and looking more awake than she had felt in weeks. 'Don't you ever sleep?'

'I didn't use to. Now I must.' The young man slipped down from his spot and approached her. 'I also have to eat. But I don't want to.'

'Some food is actually fun to eat, Cole.'

He made a very unconvinced face. Lenkala laughed, and his mouth curved into a small smile, too. 'When you sleep, do you dream?' she asked.

His expression became wistful. 'Sometimes. It's not like it was. I think. It's not like when we were forced into the Fade, either.' He shuddered.

Lenkala rose and took his hands. 'Don't dwell on it if it's painful. It won't happen again.'

'You are afraid.'

Lenkala smiled at him. 'Yes. Very much. We have to confront Corypheus soon. I take it you want to come with me?'

Cole nodded, his expression serious. 'I … need to. I cannot wait to see if you come back. And if you don't …' He bit his lip, struggling with words. 'I don't want you to die. You've done so much for me. For everyone. But also for me. And I don't know why.'

'Don't you?' Lenkala held on to him, felt the warmth of his skin and wondered for the first time if perhaps her touch was unwelcome. 'I care about you, Cole.'

The young man looked stricken, his eyes darting between hers as if trying to catch one of them lying. 'You … you do.' It wasn't a question. 'Rhys does, too, but not like you. Bright, brilliant, bleeding into the dark. No, he's not like this.' Cole pulled his hands away and tilted his head. 'If I touch you, I feel.' Tentatively, he reached out again, and he smiled when they made contact, his eyes closing. 'I can feel you like this, Lenka.'

She had no idea how he had come so close, all of a sudden, his face inches from hers. 'Cole … what are you doing?' Her heart was racing, her brain fried, and Cole's breath was whispering against her skin.

'I don't know.'

Lenkala didn't manage to think of an answer. Cole's hands slid out of hers and settled on her waist, pulling her into a gentle but very close embrace. His nose dug into the crook of her neck and he sighed. Unable to resist, Lenkala buried her face in the taller man's chest, smelling him, wanting nothing more than to hold on and never let go. When he released her, he positively stared at her, mouth slightly open, cheeks flushed crimson. Lenkala placed a shaking hand over his heart. 'Why would you do that?' She feared the answer more than facing Corypheus.

'I couldn't … I don't know.'

Her eyes closed with a mixture of relief and dread. He hadn't said that he had done what she wanted, and that was certainly a good sign. Given the vagueness of his answer, she didn't dare hope too much, though. 'Cole? I think we should discuss this later. After Corypheus.'

'What if there is no after?'

Unable to stop herself, Lenkala took Cole's face into both her hands. 'Let's make sure there is, Cole.' She felt his nod more than she saw it and forced her eyes away from him to her map again. 'Wait a moment, please.' She stepped outside and talked to the guard. 'I'd like to discuss something. But before that I want to ask you something. How is Dorian holding up?'

'He is hurting and he is afraid. I … I cannot help him Lenka.'

'No, I don't think anyone can.' She rubbed over her eyes. 'He wants to come with me when we face Corypheus. What do you say? Can he do it? He says he can, but maybe you know better.'

'He can fight. He needs to.'

Lenkala nodded. 'All right.' A gentle knock on her door announced a visitor. 'Ah, good, he's awake. Come in!' The door revealed Jowan, and he didn't look very much awake. His hair was messed up, his eyes half closed, and his stubble more pronounced than usually. 'The guard woke you up, didn't he?'

'It's all right.'

'I told him not to. Darya all right?'

'She didn't hear a thing. Bless her.'

'Jowan … What did that well do to you, exactly?'

'To me? Not so sure. It did something for me. All I need is a little bit of time. I need to go … oh, you got a map here. Right there. I need to summon Mythal … please don't ask how I know, I just do.' He looked at her and at Cole. 'I believe you should prepare to move as soon as your army is back. Don't wait for me. I'll find you.'

'How?'

It was Cole that answered. 'The other one, the voice in your head. She's calling you, and she'll send you forth. Her champion to right what was done wrong.'

Jowan blushed. 'I don't know about me being anyone's champion. Wait for the rest to return from …' A flash of lightning lit up the night sky. All three of them ran to the balcony and stared out into the dark. A poisonous green light was roiling in the clouds, too far to tell what it was, but they all knew. 'On second thought, don't wait. Grab whoever you can and go to Haven. I'll find you there.'

'Whom?'

'Cole, Dorian, Solas. I can't, so you need a warrior, too.'

'The only bleeding warrior here is Evangeline, and I am not taking a pregnant woman.'

Jowan shook his head. 'Lenka, if I could, I'd come, but I've got to go elsewhere. If Corypheus dies, Evangeline's child will never be born. Think of it that way.'

'Fenris,' Lenkala said. 'He can fight.'

'You trust him? Around Dorian?' Jowan asked. 'Also Corypheus is a mage. I can't believe I'm saying this, but the woman is a templar. Take her, she's about the most useful person you can have, with Cassandra unavailable.'

'Jowan, she being pregnant also means she'll unconsciously defend her child, be more cautious. I don't need cautious, so I have no-one else!' she said sharply. 'Cole, will he harm Dorian?'

'No, but he won't protect him either.'

She balled her fists. 'Oh, he will.'

Ϡ

'This is amazing,' Núria said, almost breathless. 'So beautiful.'

Jowan huffed. 'Don't be too smitten with the surroundings. I have no idea what exactly Mythal is. For all I know, she may be little less dangerous than Corypheus.'

'Well, do your summoning. We'll see.'

Jowan nodded and approached the altar. He cleared his throat. 'Mythal! Come to me. I drank from the Well of Sorrows. You know that. Whatever you are, whoever remains, I invoke your name and your power!'

Zevran smirked at the way Jowan's voice rose in volume and height, but the smile died on his face quickly. Something was happening, that much was certain. The wind, hardly noticeable before, blew harshly, tugging at Núria's hair and taking her breath away. The air grew dense before them, forming a shadow. And out of the shadow stepped a woman. Núria stared at her blankly, recognising the face at once.

All of a sudden, she wasn't the Hero of Ferelden, a woman who had braved a Blight, assassins, spirits, and Maker knows what else, but a lonely, frightened girl with only a stranger for company and the end of the world looming before her. 'Flemeth,' she whispered before shaking herself and shoving the unwelcome memories away. She felt Zevran's gaze and offered a nod, telling him without words that she was all right and he need not worry.

'Grey Warden. Now there's a surprise.'

'You can't be Mythal. Mythal wasn't a …'

'_Shemlen_?' Flemeth's voice was brimming with amusement. 'Mythal was one of the people. Interesting for you to know, because they would have called you what you were going to call me. A city elf. A degenerate, unaware of her own history.'

Núria folded her arms. 'I know a bit, Flemeth. Hang on. Does that mean you're not an abomination?'

'Abomination. Such a crude word. Once I was but a woman, crying out at the lonely darkness for justice. And she came to me. A wisp of an ancient being, and she granted me all I wanted and more. I have carried Mythal all the ages and since, seeking the justice denied to her.'

'And just how do you know you weren't tricked by a demon?' Jowan asked.

Flemeth turned to him. 'You answer that question yourself. What do the voices say?'

'They say you speak the truth. But I'm not sure that's saying much. You're the one controlling the voices.'

'Clever lad. The voices do not lie, Grey Warden. Oh, don't look at me like that, I sensed your own taint the moment the water of the well touched your lips. I can help you.' Flemeth reached out towards Jowan, shrouding him in mist. 'The altar's guardian will come. Master the dragon, and it will be yours to command against Corypheus. Fail, and die.' With one last glance at Núria, Flemeth turned to leave.

'Wait!' she called after her.

Flemeth halted but didn't turn. 'I wished to see who drank from the well of sorrows. It has been a very long time. Now I have, and he is free to go.'

'About Morrigan …'

'Morrigan chose her death, make no mistake. She never expected to survive facing the Old Gods. But she was not the last.'

And Flemeth vanished like she'd come, taken by the wind. Jowan was pale. 'What does she mean?' He swallowed. 'What did she mean by that, not the last? She didn't mean Darya! She can't have.'

Zevran opened his mouth to answer, but again, the wind picked up. This time, it was different, however. This was familiar. With a roar, a dragon landed before them. 'Ah, running isn't an option?' Zevran asked.

'Stay back, get away from me,' Jowan told them sharply. 'I'll handle this, I need a few moments, but you need to go.' He brought both hands to his chest, then, in one fluid motion, shoved them outwards. The dragon was caught in gust of ice cold wind, slowed by the spell and the freezing temperature. 'Run, now! This'll get you as much as the dragon.'

Finally, Núria started to run towards where they'd come from, Zevran next to her. 'What is he doing?' the Antivan asked. 'What is the fool doing?'

'Maker's breath, I've got no idea.' Núria skidded to a halt under the thick canopy of the forest and stared. Jowan seemed tiny next to the dragon. The beast was slowed, but still approaching the mage, and he wasn't moving. 'We've got to help him!'

'I don't think we can.'

And then, Jowan did move, a flailing motion skywards. The air crackled and thunder struck down from the heavens. Jowan ran. As fast as he could, he headed towards them, away from the centre of the electrical storm he had summoned. He nearly crashed into Núria, breathless and sweating. 'Stay back.'

Núria snorted. 'I was just going to go in there. Ah … how long will that last?'

'A bit. But I don't assume it'll wait.'

Indeed it didn't. The dragon came towards them, but it wasn't anywhere near as agile as before. 'Stay back,' Jowan said again. The air around him crackled, enveloping him in magic. This, Núria knew. The mage drew his sword and walked forwards, his blade pointed at the dragon. The creature roared its fury at him, but the mage didn't back down. 'You won't defeat me,' he said. 'I know you understand me. I'm not done, yet.'

'We've got to do something, Zev.'

Zevran had his swords drawn, but wasn't moving. 'This looks more like a battle of wills. I don't think we want to harm this thing.'

Núria faced him and gestured to the mage. 'If it harms Jowan … Leliana … I'll rather kill the dragon than tell her he's dead.'

'Look … you won't have to.'

She spun back around, and if it hadn't been for Zevran's hand on her arm, she'd have stepped between them now. A blue glow emanated from Jowan, flowing over to the dragon, reflected in its eyes. Again, it roared, spittle flying into Jowan's face, but the mage didn't seem to notice.

After what seemed like an eternity, the beast's head lowered. 'Go,' Jowan said, his voice rough. 'Go to the Temple of Sacred Ashes. Now.' While the dragon lifted itself into the air, Jowan turned and smiled at them. He was still smiling when he collapsed in a heap.


	12. Dance With Me And Join My Song

_((The chapter heading is from the ASP song _Hunger_. And this between Leliana and Jowan is something I wanted to do in _Saving Us_ and never got round to write. They have my sincerest apologies and some compensation in this chapter. Um.))_

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><p>Chapter 12<p>

Dance With Me And Join My Song

Lenkala had expected to be attacked by a horde of red templars when she reached the Temple of Sacred Ashes. But if they were there, they didn't intend to fight her. And while she couldn't see Corypheus, she sensed him. 'Dorian …'

'I'm all right.'

She turned and looked at her company, frightened but not in a position to show it. The notion seemed mirrored on all their faces.

When she had gone to Fenris, ready to rant at him in advance and to dare him to risk Dorian's life in the upcoming battle, all the elf had done was listen quietly before telling her he knew there was more at stake than his or Dorian's life was worth. Now here he stood, next to Varric, Cole, Dorian, and Solas, and she had no doubt that he would do all in his power to see Corypheus die. As did they all. 'This is it,' she said. 'We'll win this. We'll beat Corypheus, I close the breach, and we can all go back and forget about this mess.'

'Yes, we'll laugh about this later,' Dorian said.

Lenkala grinned at him. 'And once we're done, we'll find a way to help you. I'm not letting you die.'

'I'll hold you to it.'

'Lenka,' Cole said, his bright blue eyes wide. 'You need to survive.'

Lenkala swallowed, the intense look resonating within her. 'I certainly plan to.'

He took a tentative step forwards and reached out to take her hands the way she had done so many times with him. 'Promise me.'

'I … I can't, Cole.' The spirit turned away, but she held on to him. 'Look … I really want to get through this. And … when we're back at Skyhold we can talk. Good?'

His cheeks slightly flushed, Cole met her eyes again and nodded, just once.

'I believe,' Fenris said softly, 'we're about to have company.'

Corypheus's dragon approached at breakneck speed, and Lenkala braced herself. Before it could land, however, another dragon crashed into it, both roaring at a painful volume. 'Jowan,' Lenkala whispered. 'This is his doing, no doubt.' This time, she faced the men behind her with a grin. 'Onwards! Let's kill the magister.'

Dorian grinned back. 'Hah! That's the spirit.'

Ϡ

After his initial breakdown, Jowan had recovered quickly enough to move, but he would need a while before he cast anything again. All the way back to Skyhold, he felt Núria's eyes on him, watching if he was all right. He wasn't, his head felt as if a fly landing on it would cause it to explode, but that was to be expected. There was only so much a mage could cast, and he had never been on the overly powerful side. What he'd done was a feat to be proud of for anyone.

When they reached the castle, the night sky was still broiling with Corypheus's sinister magic, but that was to be expected. The Inquisitor could only have left a while after them, so maybe she and her companions hadn't even reached him yet – or only just. The dragon would wait until they threatened its master. He knew that much. He also knew that going after them was pointless. The fate of Thedas lay in her hands.

On their departure, one guard had seen them off. Now, they were greeted by two. The entire keep was bustling again. Jowan excused himself, making up his mind where he wanted to be in what might be his final hours.

If Jowan's past had done one thing for him, it was turning him into a realist. As it stood, there was an excellent chance that they would all be dead before the dawn. Darya would be sleeping, and if they all had to die, he'd rather she died in her sleep. Also, if he woke her up, he'd alarm her, and that was the last thing he wanted. He prayed quietly that this horror vision didn't come to pass, that his little girl would live a long and happy life. He couldn't help smiling. After all these years, he'd come to think of her as his, and so did Leliana. What with him being a Grey Warden, they'd never have a child of their own. If they survived, he decided, they would build a snowman the next day.

With Darya not an option, Jowan headed to Leliana's quarters. He removed his armour outside her bedroom and slipped inside in his smallclothes. She was sprawled on her back, taking up all the space available. He couldn't help smiling. She was one of those people who could sleep in the middle of a battlefield and wake up completely alert, a typical sign of someone who had been on the run or had fought more battles than anyone should. Both was true for her.

Sighing, Jowan crouched beside her. He reached out and brushed his fingertips over her cheeks. 'You'll never get hurt again. Not if I have any say.'

Her eyes opened, alarmed for a moment until she took him in. 'Hello,' she said then, smiling as if the world wasn't falling apart at the seams and placing her hand over his. 'Any news?'

'I sent them a dragon. Beyond that, all as it was.'

Leliana made room for him and he slipped under the covers gratefully. This place was cold, even by Fereldan standards. 'Then why d'you wake me?' she whispered and snuggled close. One of her legs wriggled between his and pressed into his crotch. That alone could be considered an answer to her own question.

Still, Jowan played along, despite his immediate reaction to the gentle pressure of her thigh against his sex. 'Oh, I can leave if I'm breaking your sleep.'

An arm snaked around him, holding him in place. 'Don't you dare.' His eyes, adjusted to the dark by now, found hers. She looked as frightened as he felt. 'This may be our last night. I feared I wouldn't see you again before …'

Jowan placed a forefinger on her lips. Screw realism. 'Before the Inquisitor comes back victorious? We don't know this is the end. It might not be, you know.' His hand travelled to Leliana's neck, and he placed his lips on hers. He wanted nothing more than to forget what was going on outside. 'I … Liana, I want to make love to you. If these really are our last hours …'

Gentle hands tugged at his pants and he struggled out of them before removing Leliana's nightshift. In the eerie light she looked as young as the first time they had been together, in a small inn in West Hill. He had been so nervous, so self-conscious, so afraid that Leliana would one day open her eyes and see nothing but a maleficar who deserved to rot in an unmarked grave. And with every day she had stood by him his confidence had grown. 'You are amazing, you know that?' he whispered, pulling her flush against him.

'You're not too bad either, for a man,' she answered.

Jowan chuckled. Apparently he wasn't the only one reminded of that night. This, too, had been something he'd fretted over after Zevran had dropped a hint regarding Leliana's sexuality. The Antivan had been dressed down by her the next day after she'd swept away Jowan's concern that she might prefer a woman. 'Oh, not too bad, is it?' He let his hands travel over her skin, exploring her as if he hadn't done this a million times before, as if he didn't know her body as well as his own. Warm fingers grasped his member and he couldn't hold back the gasp that escaped his lips.

'For a man,' she repeated, and he tipped her head up to reveal the gleam of mischief and the grin she'd been hiding.

Jowan grinned back and kissed her, deeply this time, sucking on her lower lip when he slipped a finger inside her. 'Oh, you … I'll think of a comeback later, when my brain's working again.' He closed his eyes, tasting her as they shared open mouthed kisses.

The fingers of her free hand tangled into his hair to hold him near, her body undulating against him. 'See, that's what I mean,' Leliana whispered against his lips. 'Women can do more than one thing at a time.'

Laughing at her reply, Jowan pulled one of Leliana's legs over his hip and positioned himself. The bard held on to him as if for dear life when she tilted her hips, taking him inside. This was also something she had taught him: that sex wasn't always a serious matter. Not that he had brought overly much experience with him, but he'd never have thought it could ever be appropriate to joke in such a situation. His eyes found the window and the dark magic befouling the sky, and he pulled Leliana on top of him, removing it from his field of vision. He needed to forget. 'I could,' he told her. 'I prefer not to distract myself and enjoy you with all my senses. I love you way too much for that.' He let his magic flow into his hands, only a hint of it. This much he could do even in his drained state. The humour fled from Leliana's face and she threw her head back, starting to ride him in earnest.

'Do that again, love,' she breathed, her hair hanging in her face, hands braced against his chest.

Covering her breasts with his hands, he did as he was asked. 'Anything you want, Liana. I'm all yours.' Jowan bent his legs to improve his mobility. 'Any other requests?' She leaned down to kiss him, then took his head in her hands and locked eyes with him, pressing their foreheads together.

'Just one, my dear Jowan. Don't stop if the world starts falling apart around us. If I have to die tonight, I want to die joined with you.'

Jowan wrapped both arms around her, holding her tightly as he picked up speed. Leliana grasped his shoulders, clutching him to her. Her eyes were overly bright and still firmly on his face as if he was the most important thing in the world. When he tried to hold back, to draw this out as long as he could, Leliana propped herself up and moved with such urgency she made a nonsense of that plan. He couldn't even keep his eyes open with the intensity. The heat in his groin became solid. Leliana moaned, his name on her lips, and he couldn't hold back. His hands found her hips and he held her close, grinding against her as he came, taking her over the edge with him.

Jowan let his arms fall, trying to catch his breath. Leliana had collapsed on top of him, kissing his collarbone and turning her head to the side. He felt her go rigid and slip out of their bed without a word. She stood at the window, blocking the sight from his angle. 'Leliana?'

She took a few seconds to answer. 'I believe you should come here and look, darling. Soon. As in right now.'

Ϡ

Lenkala screamed her rage after Corypheus when he fled – yet again. Her frustration was evident, and Varric shared it. He still wanted to say he wasn't made for the frontlines, he wasn't supposed to be doing any of this, and yet again, he found himself exactly where he didn't want to be – and again, he wouldn't actually have it any other way.

'Jowan's dragon's in trouble,' he said, and they all stared as the creature was killed in mid-air by Corypheus's monster. When the red-lyrium dragon landed, however, it was evidently hurt.

'Let's finish it, then,' Lenkala said. She was bleeding from a vicious cut on her forehead, but she didn't even seem to notice. Cole eyed her with tangible concern, and Varric made a mental note to have a thorough conversation with the lad once this was all over. He wasn't going to discourage him, but the poor kid had so little experience he might appreciate a few words.

The dragon roared in pain and the anger of a wounded beast but seemed reluctant to attack due to its injuries. Varric was very certain that wouldn't last. He took them all in, their battered state showing that if this fight lasted as long as it already had, they were done.

Dorian's face was white and shining with sweat, his jaw was clenched, and his determination to hide his pain was fooling no-one except perhaps himself. Solas had taken a moment to lean forwards, taking deep breaths with his hands on his knees, but now his eternal composure was back, his gaze fixed on the dragon. He was the only reason why they were all still standing. Cole had received a vicious blow that must have cracked more than one rib. When Varric had seen his back crash into the sharp edge of a wall he had actually thought the kid would never rise again. Fenris was the only one who hadn't uttered a word since they had joined battle. Come to think of it, he'd never heard him raise his voice in a fight. He was calmer than Solas even, completely focussed. Even now, his eyes followed the dragon's every movement while still managing to scan their surroundings for Corypheus making an appearance.

'This thing needs to die,' the elf said, catching Varric's eye. 'I suggest one of us keeps an eye out for the magister.' He nodded towards Dorian. The mage wanted to protest, but Fenris forestalled him. 'You are barely standing. Cast a barrier if Solas can't for some reason, but stay out of trouble. You have fought bravely. There is no need for you to die.'

A smile tugged at the corner of Varric's mouth. He would have hugged the elf if their situation weren't so dire. 'He's right, Sparkler. Don't kill yourself just yet.'

Dorian exchanged a glance with Lenkala, and at her nod, he let his mask slip. 'You're right. Kick its ass for me a bit.'

'I believe we all plan to.' With that, Fenris charged, so fast it was difficult to see him. Even the dragon, whose perception was better than that of a dwarf, couldn't get a hold on him. One moment he was slashing at a foreleg, then the dragon wanted to grab him, and Fenris darted out of the way and _through_ the beast to drive his blade into its rear. Cole's style looked somewhat similar, but while he was good at getting out of the way, he couldn't literally soak a hit the way Fenris could.

Solas sighed next to Varric. 'The kid is going to get himself killed.'

Varric loaded and took aim, waiting for the beast to lift its head a bit. 'The kid is faster than the dragon.'

'Speaking of fast … your friend is quite the warrior.'

'I know.' The dragon did as Varric had hoped, and he released a bolt. It landed just under the beast's jaw. Slowed by blood loss and exhaustion, it looked for them, but Varric and Solas dove out of sight in time. The fire struck a bit away from where they had been and far too late.'

'It's going to fall soon,' Solas said.

'Shame the Iron Lady isn't here.'

'Yes. I agree, for once.' Solas made a quick movement with both hands, and the air grew dense around Cole. The barrier came just in time before a claw made contact with him. 'How do I tell him to be more careful?'

'No idea. I tried.'

'He wants to protect her.'

'Lenka's a mage, she can look after herself. I told him that, too, trust me.'

'You do realise why he is so desperate to keep her safe.'

Varric closed his eyes for a moment. 'Not now, Chuckles.' He really didn't want to get into that conversation again. The dragon took a deep breath. Varric managed to launch a bolt directly into its mouth, causing it to snap it shut rather than breathing fire. Solas laughed, and Varric shot him a glare. 'Of all the inappropriate moments …'

'Your Bianca never misses the mark, does she?'

'She learned from the best.'

'I wasn't going to blame you, you know. I was going to say … perhaps you were right.'

Varric was going to reply, but then Cole somehow hauled himself onto the dragon's neck. 'Andraste's flaming ass, what is he doing?'

Solas didn't answer. Instead, he cast another barrier on the rogue, shaking his head and staring as the young man found the juncture between the beast's head and spine and rammed a dagger into it. The dragon's attempts to shake him off became more feeble, and finally, it sank to the floor. Cole jumped off before he could be thrown.

'Now what?' Varric asked.

'Now we can kill Corypheus,' Solas said earnestly. 'He's back, look.'

The death of the dragon had driven the magister into desperation. While he attacked even more viciously, he also got careless. They evaded with more ease, and there was hardly a moment where Fenris wasn't directly at him, keeping him occupied. Before, even the elf had sometimes failed to follow immediately. Varric and Solas both fell silent, focussed on staying alive and bringing down the monstrosity that sought to destroy the world.

For a time, it seemed to work. Then Cole was caught by a spell and flung off their piece of rock. Varric prayed silently but fervently that he hadn't fallen to his death. Damn him, but he liked the kid. 'Don't be distracted.' Varric shot Solas a glare but didn't say anything. He was right.

'I'm trying. Dorian all right?'

'Unconscious.' Fenris was engulfed in fire, and even though Solas managed to protect him from the worst of it, the elf collapsed.

'We're going to die, aren't we?' Varric asked.

'Likely.'

Lenkala froze. She let her staff fall, and for a moment Varric thought she was going to surrender. Then she thrust her mark out at Corypheus. The air crackled with energy as the two fought a battle on an entirely different level. Intrigued beyond fear, Varric wanted to approach, but Solas held him back. 'Better not.'

'What's he holding?' Varric asked sharply, noticing the orb in Corypheus's hand for the first time. Solas didn't answer. He just stared as the thing vanished before it materialised in Lenkala's hand and Corypheus went to his knees. With a triumphant shout, Lenkala thrust her hand up against the breach, and before their eyes, the wound in the very heavens healed. The slight elven mage smiled. Slowly, she walked towards Corypheus. Varric saw her talk, but the noise stole the words from her lips. A rift opened inside the magister, tearing him up and swallowing him. The orb fell from Lenkala's hands and shattered. Corypheus was gone, the breach closed. Varric let himself fall to his knees and allowed the fact that the world was safe bring actual tears to his eyes.


	13. Aftermath

Chapter 13

Aftermath

* * *

><p>The sun was already standing low, and they had barely been outside an hour. Darya was having the time of her life, and so was Jowan. Leliana watched them, smiling fondly and still struggling to acknowledge the fact that it was all over.<p>

After the breach had been closed, almost all the castle had drifted out into the courtyard to stare at the heavens, taking in the enormity of what had happened. There was still uncertainty if Lenkala had survived the ordeal, but all in all, this had to mean Corypheus was defeated. They'd known the waiting would be hard, but at least, the world was safe.

The next day, Jowan had built a snowman with Darya and her. The thing still stood, and probably would do so for a while. It was well away from the training grounds, after all, and the weather didn't threaten to get any warmer.

By now, Lenkala was back with almost all those that had gone with her. Cole looked completely battered and had been coaxed into the infirmary, and Dorian was still dying, but the rest of them seemed fine enough. Only Solas was gone. According to the others, he had been there throughout the fight but had left after it, apparently heartbroken over the loss of some elven artefact. Lenkala insisted that he'd be back, but with every passing day, Leliana doubted it more. The elf seemed to be gone for good.

Leliana waved at her family before moving back inside. There was much for her to do. Later tonight there would be the celebration that was overdue. They all deserved it, the Inquisitor and those fighting with her most of all. And Jowan, her brave, wonderful mage. The Dalish had all but rushed Leliana to tell her how without the fortuitous appearance of a dragon that helped them, they would all be dead. Leliana wished she could have been there, but you couldn't have everything.

Fretting more with every passing minute, Leliana checked in the kitchens and everywhere else to make sure the evening would be perfect. Their visitors would be of high rank, and they should make a good impression. Sure, the danger was over, but there were still things to do. Small rifts were still scattered in a few places, and they needed closing. The venatori were still out there, and Corypheus's death wouldn't mean they'd come to their senses. Red lyrium was still around all over the place. No, the Inquisition's work was far from over. That aside, if it was disbanded right now, they'd leave a gaping hole in the general balance of power in the south of Thedas.

And then there was the matter of the vacant Sunburst Throne. The Inquisitor had asked Leliana's opinion. Apparently both Cassandra and Vivienne had approached her for support. While Vivienne was not an option as far as Lenkala was concerned, the Inquisitor's suggestion had Leliana on edge. The elf had suggested that she, a bard, sit on the throne. If it weren't for Jowan and Darya, she might even have agreed, but she was not going to abandon her family, and that was what it would have meant. No. Better to have Cassandra chosen. This was a likely outcome and one Leliana could appreciate. While the changes Cassandra would make might not be radical enough for Leliana's liking, she assumed it was a sensible middle ground and a stable situation.

But this was for the future. Right now, her concerns were two particular people. The first of them she found sitting on a bed, arms folded, chin pressed against his chest in a scowl that sought its peer. She forced herself not to laugh. 'What's wrong, Cole?'

The young man turned his eyes up to her. 'They aren't letting me out. I tried to leave, but they can all see me. How am I supposed to leave if they can see me?'

Leliana sat next to him. 'I'll talk to them. Perhaps they can release you for the celebration. But if they say you're too hurt, you've got to stay.' She lowered her voice. 'Lenka wants you alive and well, you know. Think of it that way.'

'She was here earlier. She said I shouldn't try and sneak out again.'

'She's right.' Leliana tilted her head. 'If they let you go for a few hours, do you promise to return afterwards?'

He looked so eager, Leliana did laugh. 'Yes! I'll go back, I just want to be there. I need to talk to Lenka, and here I don't want to. Too quiet, too many ears.'

'She been here a lot?'

Cole nodded. 'Yes. I wonder why.'

Leliana smiled, wondering if the lad was really so oblivious. 'You mean a lot to her, Cole. I'll talk to the healers. They'll let you know.'

'How is Dorian?'

Leliana made a face. 'Not good. I'll ask him about tonight, if he can join and if he even wants to. He's been retreating into his library more than usual. He doesn't want to be seen so vulnerable.'

'How long does he have?'

'I don't know. None of us do. That's perhaps the worst part.' She patted Cole's knee. 'I'll see you later. If they don't let you out, I'll come just before the celebration and bring you some wine. Have you ever had wine?'

'No.'

'Well, I'll make sure you're getting the best we have.'

Ϡ

Rhys fled the room at Vivienne's gesture. Evangeline was suffering, and he wasn't able to help. Right now, the contrary seemed to be the case. She didn't want him to see her so frail. He wanted to tell her that it didn't matter, that he understood she wasn't being weak, that suffering from the withdrawal wasn't her fault … and he would, but he had picked the worst moment. Instead of giving comfort, his words had enraged her. Rhys was sensible enough to know she was angry at herself more than him and that anger was part of the withdrawal, so he wasn't too hurt by her shoving his hand away from hers and shouting for him to get lost. He'd return later. She was going to tell him she was sorry, and he would just hold her and tell her all was well. And it was. There was still much for her to endure, and if there was one thing she needed to know it was the he would stand by her.

Outside, he saw Jowan with his daughter. The apostate was on his back in the snow, arms crossed over his face and laughing so hard he was completely oblivious to his surroundings. Darya was drawing in the snowflakes, letting them sail onto his face. They were glowing … Rhys had never seen anything like it.

Coming from the main hall was Leliana. She watched the scene with folded arms and a smile before charging forwards, lifting Darya into the air and spinning her around. The girl squeaked with joy. Jowan picked himself up and dusted snow off his robe. He was positively caked in it. He caught Rhys's eye and nodded towards him. Needing someone to talk to, Rhys approached. 'Can I have a word with you?' he asked. Leliana stiffened, and he sighed. 'I'm not going to have Jowan arrested, if that is what you fear. Not that I could, even if I wanted to.' It was strange. He had voted to split from the Chantry. Now, those loyal to it eyed him with distrust. But what with Evangeline being a templar, the mages also feared him. Not that he thought Jowan feared anyone. If the stories were true – and Rhys thought they were – he had tamed a dragon and sent it to assist Lenkala. What sort of man could do such a thing?

The blood mage shrugged. 'Sure.' They retreated to the stairs. Jowan placed his hands on one of them, and for a moment they seemed to glow from within.

Rhys touched the ground tentatively, finding it warm enough, but not uncomfortably so. 'I never thought of that. I assume the real heat is further within the rock? I never thought of anything like that.'

Jowan nodded. 'Well. I had a friend who'd have told you I do what everyone needs and no-one else bothers.' He grinned. 'He also would have told you I could cast any spell that hasn't even been invented, as long as you didn't ask me to cast the same spell twice.'

Rhys laughed. 'Oh?'

'Focus isn't my strongest point. But it's better than it was. A lot.'

'And your friend? He has focus but no inventiveness?'

'Had. Perhaps less than me. He was a better mage than I am, though.' Jowan shook his head. 'I've lost him and another great friend to the war between mages and templars. Neither of them wanted anything to do with it, they just wanted to stay out. One was killed by a mage, the other by a templar. I don't care which side started. They're all wrong, and I doubt it's going to get better any time soon.'

'I'd have expected a more … pro-mage opinion from someone like you.'

Jowan gave him a lingering look. 'Someone like me. I'd ask you what that is, exactly, but I think we both know. It doesn't matter. My opinion on the matter is pro letting people live. Someone like me as well as … templars. The normal ones, not the red ones, obviously.' He shook his head as if trying to get rid of a very persistent fly. 'I'd rather not dwell on the entire mess. How can I help you?'

'Ah … what is it like to have a mage child for a non-mage? I mean … as in … pregnancy.'

Jowan chuckled. 'I have no idea. And neither does Leliana.' He looked at Rhys as if sizing him up. 'Darya's parents are both dead. She doesn't know that yet, because we took her when she was a baby. We'll tell her soon, though, once everything's calmed down a little around here. She has a right to know.'

'Oh.'

'I can tell you what raising a little mage is like, though. Might I ask what you intend to do when your kid is born? Do you stay here or leave?'

Rhys blew out his cheeks. 'For now this seems to be the safest place to be.'

Jowan nodded fervently. He smiled at Darya and Leliana chasing each other in the waning light. It had started to snow again, their footprints slowly vanishing under another layer. 'Yes. There are ways to tell if your child is a mage. I don't recommend hiding it from her in that case. Let her grow up knowing that one day her powers will awaken and … well, we'll see what then. Perhaps the Inquisition can make sure that by that time her magic won't be a stigma anymore.'

'What is Darya doing?' As before, the snowflakes were giving off light. Darya was standing in the midst of it looking skywards, arms outstretched. 'That's not your average magic.'

Jowan's expression hardened, and Rhys knew he wouldn't get an answer. 'This … isn't a topic for right now, perhaps not ever. I'm sorry. All I'll tell you is Darya is special.'

'Who were her parents?'

The blood mage licked his lips and offered a conspiratorial smile. 'You wouldn't believe me.'

'Try me.'

'King Alistair and Morrigan. Another apostate. A witch of the wilds, even.'

Somehow, Rhys had heard stranger things, and yet … 'You're right. Well, at least I'm not sure if I believe you. It doesn't explain … this.'

Jowan rose. 'No. It doesn't. I need to protect my daughter before anything else. I am certain you understand that I cannot say anything that might put her in danger if the information ends up in the wrong hands. I apologise.'

Ϡ

Cole was usually happy just being left alone. That he had wanted to attend the celebration was something that puzzled him. He would think about it later. Right now, he was content to watch. He tried not to watch Dorian too much, though. The mage was under a spell or a substance that suppressed his pain, but he looked ill. Tired, drained, and gaunt. He was also no longer able to cast. He hadn't said so, but Cole could sense his distress over that as if the man were screaming it out for all to hear. The worst part, however, was that he could hear the song of the red lyrium from the mage. It was almost time.

Lenkala was trying to have fun, and for a while she managed. She was worried, too, because Solas had left. He wouldn't come back. Cole knew, although he couldn't say why.

He ate a little, and it didn't seem as terrible as it previously had. The healers had ordered him to eat more, and he knew deep down that they were right. So he ate. First with disgust, now with something a little better than indifference. He still had to be reminded to do so, however. It was so easy to forget.

Well into the evening, Lenkala stepped up to her throne. Instead of sitting, however, she jumped on top of it. 'Listen!' she shouted. 'Listen everyone. I hear you all saying how I saved the world. And how I should get married to one of you nobles. Let me answer that one first. I won't.' There was some laughter and some muttering. 'I will remain with the Inquisition for now. And I ask all those who fought with me to do the same, for the time being. However, if anyone wishes to leave, I will not stop them and I remain grateful for all you have done so far.'

Cole smiled when he heard the soldiers cheering as well as Lenka's closer friends. None of them would walk away just yet. That was good. 'The other thing … I couldn't have done this alone. All of you have played a vital part. Cullen, without your leadership we would never have survived Haven. Josie … without your patience I'd have pissed off all our allies. Leliana … you're the heart of the Inquisition. Nothing can live without a heart.'

Cheers again, and Leliana was blushing. She knew how big her part in their victory was, but she didn't want to stand in the light. She was more familiar with the shadows. 'Bull, Sera, Blackwall, Cass, Viv … I couldn't wait for you and deprived you of a part in that final battle. A battle you'd have made much less painful. I'm sorry. For the rest of us more than you.'

Even the Knight Enchanter smiled at that. Sera hooted. Bull slammed his fist into the table in applause, making everything on it bounce up and down until Cassandra stopped him. 'And then … Cole, Dorian, Varric, Fenris … and Solas … they stood by me at the bitter end, risking to suffer a brutal and cruel death. And Jowan, the mage who sent me a bleeding dragon. Celebrate them. They played at least as big a part as I did. I am not the Inquisition. We all are, together. Don't you ever forget it.'

Cole saw her walk away to her door and rushed towards her. He caught her by the arm and stared, torn between wanting to say something and fearing rejection. 'I …' He faltered, feeling himself flush. He looked away.

'You've got to go back to the infirmary. I know Leliana made you promise.'

'I feel fine.'

Lenkala smiled at him, and something warm spread outwards from Cole's stomach. It ached, but in a good way. She placed her hand on his cheek and her thumb caressed his skin lightly. 'Do you have any idea how terrified I was when you fell from that platform? I thought you're dead for sure.'

'I am not dead, Lenka.' Cole hardly recognised his voice. It was too quiet and too hoarse.

'No. And I need you to stay this way. Please. Please go back until they say you're all right. I'll … I'll walk you there?' Her hand settled on his elbow, trying to steer him towards the door.

They were halfway outside when the door opened and a gust of cold wind carried in a woman in a chantry robe, her face hidden under a piece of cloth. 'This is getting ridiculous,' Lenkala said, sounding more annoyed than worried.

Cole wanted to answer, but then the woman's emotions hit him with such force the words died in his throat. Hatred. Deep and dark and dreadful, eating her alive, killing all else. He had never felt anything like this, not even from Lambert … He backed away, feeling the cold, deadening loathing like a knife in his gut. He wasn't even sure if it was directed at him or someone else, but it was definitely there. He wanted to warn Lenka, but she had already reached the new arrival. Her hood also carried the Chantry's sunburst, he noted.

'Welcome to the Inquisition,' Lenkala said. She didn't feel anything, sounded at ease. 'I am Lenkala Lavellan. Take that thing off, I'd rather see your face.'

'Ah … Inquisitor, let her wear it. It's a penitent's cowl.' Jowan smiled at her confused expression. 'In the Tower some of the initiates had to wear these after some … petty trespasses … stealing food, snogging each other and the like. For a day, usually, three at most. Sometimes they weren't allowed to talk, either, depending on the colour.'

Lenkala nodded. 'Oh. Right. And … is this colour one that allows talking, or will she write down what she wants, or do I have to guess?'

'I may speak.' The voice from under the cowl was that of an old woman and matched her hunched posture. 'You may call me Constance.' She inclined her head slightly. 'I seek refuge here. Will you grant it?'

Cole shook himself into action. 'No!' He rushed towards Lenkala. 'No. She wants … needs … Oh, I can't.'

Lenkala's attention was on him in an instant. 'Cole, look at me. What's wrong?'

'_She's_ wrong. She wants to hurt.'

'Whom?'

'I don't know.'

Lenka smiled, but he knew from the way she did that she was going to allow her to stay. Fear gripped him, not for him, not even for Lenka in particular, but he couldn't say, couldn't find the answer in her. Perhaps there wasn't one, perhaps she was insane, perhaps she was … Perhaps he was wrong? He wasn't a spirit any more, he might have misread. He knew what he felt, but perhaps he didn't read that right. Lenkala's voice came from very far away. 'I can't send her out into that blizzard, Cole.'

He nodded. 'No … you can't.' The room was spinning. He thought he heard Lenkala call his name, but then it was all dark and silent. He was content.


	14. Promises

Chapter 14

Promises

A feeling of guilt crept up Cole's neck. He had awoken in the infirmary, being fussed over by one of the healers who had insisted he had to drink more and that he had to stay for five more days at least. She was right, he supposed. In both matters. But staying for five more days might well mean that he couldn't keep his promise, so he sneaked outside after downing half a pitcher of water. He would return, but this was important.

On his way, he ran into a servant who was unfortunate enough to still be up, and asked him for a favour. The servant knew him – he had helped him find a lost piece of armour – and was happy to do what Cole asked him. Perhaps being seen wasn't always bad. He hoped this worked out the way he meant it to. The promise he was trying to fulfil was one he'd rather not have to, but .

He reached Dorian unchallenged. Vivienne, who took care that he didn't suffer too much, was not there. She would never have let him do this. Gently, he woke the mage. Understanding was on the man's face when he saw his nightly visitor. Understanding, surrender, defeat, but no fear, neither of him nor of his imminent death.

He had done it before. Killed to take away the pain. But now was different. Then, he'd helped himself more than them, or at least, he had thought so. Also it wasn't the right way to help. Now it might be the only one. 'I have promised you to end your life when the time comes,' Cole said, his voice calm. They both knew why he was there anyway, but it needed saying.

Dorian swallowed and nodded. 'I … yes. I still want that, Cole.'

'I know.' The young man ran a hand through his hair. He was nervous. What if no help was coming? What if no-one could help? 'I'll do it. If I must. Are you willing to try something else, first?'

'I tried magic, I tried Varric, there's nothing left.'

Cole wasn't so sure. He had seen something, the one thing that might still save his friend. 'Maybe there is.' He left Dorian's side and walked back to the door, peering into the night. And there he was, in full armour, as if he was expecting a battle.

'What do you want?' The words were harsh, but the anger in the voice was faked. A shield to hide the soft flesh.

'I need you. Dorian needs you.'

'Dorian needs a knife in the heart.'

'Perhaps.' Cole fidgeted. 'Or a hand that can pull out the shard. Mine can't, but yours might.'

For a moment, Fenris was silent, but Cole could feel his mind changing. He didn't want to help the mage, but he couldn't bring himself to hate him enough to let him die. Fenris shoved him aside and strode into the room, staring down at the mage. 'Did you send for me?'

Dorian blinked, confusion clear on his face. 'I did,' Cole said. 'I saw how you killed the man in the throne room. Maybe you can save Dorian the same way.'

'Cole … ah, he'll get hurt. Badly. He can't touch the red lyrium.'

'Maybe I don't need to.' Fenris tilted his head. 'Bite a cloth, mage, this will hurt. And don't cast.'

'I can't, even if I want to. Never recovered from the battle, the splinter wouldn't let me.'

'Hold him, spirit … or whatever you are.'

Cole sat behind Dorian, straddling him. He wrapped his arms around the mage's torso, pinning his arms to his sides. Fenris glowed, and the next moment Dorian was overwhelmed by instinct and struggling and he had to fight with all he had to keep him in place. Cole worried that he wasn't strong enough yet, but then the struggling ceased and Dorian was boneless. There was blood, so much blood, and Fenris looked frustrated and shook his head.

'I … am sorry. I cannot hold it.'

'Take off the glove.'

'You heard him.'

'So it will hurt you. It's killing him! You'll recover.' Still, he was holding Dorian, refusing to accept that he would die. The mage was bleeding profusely, but if Cole's messenger did his work, someone else would come.

'Look … he'll bleed to death even if I …'

'A healer is coming.' Cole himself was getting soaked in blood, but that was Dorian's smallest problem. He scrambled back to his feet and drew near the elf, staring down at him. 'Help him, Fenris. Help him, it will hurt you, but don't let him die. You said he doesn't have to, back at the temple. You said it!' His voice had risen to almost a yell.

'Cole …' He spun around. Rhys was standing in the door, taking in the scene, but it wasn't he who had spoken. Dorian's eyes were half closed, his breath shallow. He was there in an instant, taking his head into his hands and staring straight into his eyes. 'Don't make him do this, Cole.'

'Would he die?'

'No, but …'

'Dorian, I am very sorry.' Without a further word and as gently as he could, Cole knocked him out. He turned back to Fenris. 'Help him.' The elf stiffened and even Rhys in the door seemed to cringe at his tone.

'Or what?' Fenris ground out.

'Or I will take what you cherish the most.' Cole headed to the door, unable to keep anywhere near. He'd return later and either wait for Dorian to wake up or do what he had promised.

'You're too late. I've already lost that.'

Despite himself, Cole halted. His mouth twisted into a mockery of a smile. 'Oh no. Not Hawke. Something more vital. I'll take your freedom. I'll take it and kill it and you will never have it again until you want nothing more than to die. And I will not end your suffering.'

Ϡ

Rhys watched Cole leave with a bemused expression. He had seen him in many different moods, but wild anger wasn't among them. He had thought that his humanity might make him feel certain emotions more strongly than before, perhaps even a little like poor old Pharamond when he was no longer Tranquil after too long a time and unable to handle the world itself. He doubted that it would last long. 'He won't hurt you, you know,' he informed Fenris. 'It's not … his style.'

'He sounded determined.' The elven warrior was pulling off his gloves and let them fall to the ground.

'He's intense. I know. But he's a good kid.'

'Kid. You and Varric call him that. He doesn't look or act the part.'

Rhys smiled. 'Ah … I've known him for a very long time. He was more like a kid then. But he certainly has grown into … something else.' He frowned at Dorian. 'Help him or kill him, either will do at this point.'

'I believe Cole said he would kill him. I'll leave that to him.'

'You're a bit of a coward, aren't you?'

Fenris blinked and stared at Rhys. 'Listen, mage …'

He made a dismissive gesture. 'I'm not judging. I wouldn't want to kill a friend, either.'

'He is not my friend. He is …'

'The evil Tevinter mage. Yes. Get on with whatever it is you intend to do or get out of my way and let me deliver the poor man.' Rhys knew he sounded as tired as he felt. He stepped out of the way and gestured outside.

Fenris didn't leave. Instead, he sat next to the other man, who had slipped into unconsciousness again. For a long time, he just looked at Dorian's face, his expression unreadable. 'Can you … dampen sound?'

Understanding the meaning of the question, Rhys stepped closer to the pair. He could, for a while, and in a limited area. He focussed and cast. 'Now. Get on with it.' He stepped out of the ward's reach and watched. He watched as the lyrium lines on the elf's skin shone in a weird blue light. He watched as his right hand sank into Dorian's flesh. He watched as his expression changed from concentration to pure agony, a silent scream on his lips. He watched as he retreated his hand and crumpled to the floor, curled in a foetal position. The small shard of red lyrium fell from his grasp, a jagged little thing that didn't look like a splinter at all but like a sprouted tuber. The thought was disconcerting, but then again, everything about red lyrium was. Rhys sent a silent prayer to the Maker and tried to heal Dorian again. And this time, the vicious wound on his shoulder closed, no trace of the injury left except for a dull ache that would accompany Dorian for a few days. The man would live.

Ϡ

Lenkala was woken up by a commotion outside her room. She blinked into the light coming in through her window and decided she might as well get up. The distinct noise of a row made her wonder how bad the day could go.

There were a number of things that needed doing. She needed to talk to Cole, most of all. Not only because she still owed him a thorough conversation, but also because his breakdown had her nerves in tatters. She hadn't fallen asleep for hours last night, worried out of her wits. She also needed to know what on earth his problem with the chantry woman that had arrived was. Not that she was overly fond of the chantry as such, but his reaction had been quite extreme. She had talked to the old woman for a little while, and so far she had no reason to believe that she meant anyone any ill. Then again, Cole hadn't been wrong so far.

The fight had broken out by two soldiers, but both decided to flee when they spotted her. In the infirmary, Lenkala ran into Rhys who had joined its staff. He approached her and told her in a few sentences that Dorian was cured and Fenris his involuntary rescuer. With that off her shoulders, Lenka went to see Cole.

She found the young man pacing his room. He jumped when she entered, looking lost and frightened. Rushing towards him, Lenkala grabbed his hands and looked up at him. 'Don't tell me you've been up all night.'

'No. I haven't.' He looked away, clearly wanting to say something but dreading it. 'I … I need to go and see Dorian. I did last night, but when I came back they caught me, and now I'm being watched.'

'Dorian? Dorian's all right. Fenris saved him.'

'Oh.' He closed his eyes and sighed. 'Good. Did you see them?'

'No, I ran into Rhys. He didn't tell you?'

A small smile formed on Cole's face. 'No. I think he wants me to worry. I … should have been calmer.'

'Cole … ah … could you elaborate?'

'Yes.'

Despite the situation, Lenkala had to laugh. Someone had to teach Cole semantics. Varric hadn't got far in his attempts, that much was certain. 'Please do.' Again, Cole looked away. If he'd been wearing his hat right now, she knew he'd lower his head to hide his eyes behind its brim. Gently, she took his chin into her hands and stared until he met her gaze. 'Please, Cole. Don't you trust me?'

His lips opened and he let himself fall on his bed. 'I went to him. I … asked Fenris to help. He didn't want to. I …' He swallowed and studied his hands. 'I threatened him. I didn't know what he did after I left. I … did not mean to frighten him, but I was so _angry_.'

'Everyone gets angry sometimes. It doesn't make you evil as long as you control it, and since Fenris still lives, it seems you did. He did what you told him, Rhys patched Dorian up and kept Fenris here, too. He's still out cold and will need a bit to recover.'

'Is Rhys mad at me?'

'No, I don't think he is. He said you can go if you let him visit you twice a day and check you're fine. He reckons confining you does more harm than good.' A smile spread on Cole's face, and it was highly contagious. 'Now I think I owe you a talk. Mind taking a walk with me?'

Of course, Cole didn't mind. They ambled through Skyhold, talking mainly about the battle with Corypheus they hadn't had time to discuss. They skirted the subject of Solas, neither of them wanting to comment on his absence.

In the end, they found themselves in the herb garden. It was usually one of the more quiet places. The only relatively constant presence was Jowan, who was notably absent today. Instead, there were mother Giselle and Constance. Lenkala curled her hand around Cole's wrist to halt him and watched them. A flag pole with the sunburst had been erected in the centre, Jowan's pavilion suddenly held a statuette of Andraste, and three of the pots had been moved to a different spot with a lot less light. 'Hold it just a moment,' Lenkala said sharply once she had taken in the changes the two women had obviously made. 'Since when is this place a chantry?'

'You must forgive me, Inquisitor,' Giselle said in her lilting accent.

'I will. Once you've brought this in order. Get rid of the bloody statue and replace everything where it was. And I don't want that … flag here, either. This is a herb garden.'

'I do not see how that contradicts …'

'Herbs need sunlight. These aren't getting any.' She stepped closer to the taller woman and glared. 'I only allowed you in here because you kept my rules. Now you don't, and I'm kicking you out of here. There's room in the dungeon, if you must have a prayer site. But this isn't it. I will not let the chantry … toss my salad. I can do that very well on my own.' Giselle went beet red, with shame or anger Lenkala wasn't sure. To make a point, she carried one of the pots back to its usual spot and Cole took care of another. 'Get moving. Out! Both of you!'

She was still fuming when a chuckle sounded behind her. She spun, ready to yell some more. At the door, she found Leliana. 'I see I no longer need to warn you about what these two are up to.' Lenkala huffed. 'I told them you wouldn't approve, you know. And I had Constance's background checked. After your outburst, I thought it was a good idea.' The last bit was directed at Cole. 'The worrying part is, I couldn't find anything. There is no record of a sister Constance anywhere. Of course, we had a blight and a war, but most chantry records are intact with the notable exception of those of the Circle Tower. These were burnt by the mages.'

'She's old. Jowan should know her if she was in the Circle Tower, he might recognise her voice.'

'Assuming she joined the chantry as a young woman. Some only become followers late in their lives. Jowan left the circle a long time ago. There is every chance he never met her. But she has no foreign accent, so she is either very good with languages, or she may come from their chantry.' Leliana shrugged. 'I don't know. Perhaps … don't antagonise her too much. She might be dangerous. If she was at the Circle, who knows what she went through?'

Lenkala looked at Cole. 'You really think she's a threat?'

'I … think she wants to be.' He looked at the door through which she and Giselle had fled. 'I won't let anyone hurt you.'

Lenkala saw Leliana going after the two women and decided that now was the moment. She reached for Cole's hand and brought it to her lips. The young man's mouth opened. He stared, a slight flush colouring his face. He cupped her cheek, a thumb caressing her gently. She placed her hand over his and smiled up at him. It struck her how tall he was, even by human standards. The top of her head barely reached his shoulders. 'Ah … Cole, I wonder … do you even know … Um.'

'Varric told me a bit.'

'Oh dear.'

'I'm not clueless. I told him that, too. I watched, in the White Spire.'

'You realise that I'm not human. What it means for me to even think about us.'

For a moment, Lenkala feared this was too vague for the very direct Cole, but he nodded. 'Solas said elves don't want to mix because there are so few of them. It means you can't go back. I won't ask that of you.'

Lenkala could see the conclusion of his train of thought even before his hand fell from her face. She stepped closer still and grabbed his shoulders. She wouldn't let him close himself off, not now. This time she didn't wait for him to meet her eyes. 'You don't need to ask for something I offer willingly.' Her voice was quiet, hoping to quash his fear that she would turn away from him. There was awe on his face and something more primal, something that he held in check with commendable determination. She slid her hands up to cradle his neck. It would be so easy to … No, not yet. She needed to have her say first. 'All I need you to do is … to think further than the next few hours. I offer you my future, Cole. And I need you to think very carefully what you would do with that, if you had it because you can either have all of it or nothing. There can be no in between, not for me.'

'But I know …'

Lenkala placed a finger on his lips, silencing him. 'You want me, Cole. I know that. And I trust you to know yourself. But you've only started to feel this way very recently. Please explore why I am the focus of that feeling, and if there's more to it than that. Search yourself for that answer, and then tell me. I'll do the same for you. Is that all right?'

Cole's expression was solemn and warm and a part of her felt that she was doing him an injustice by not just jumping in at the deep end. But it seemed that he understood, as he always did. 'Yes.'

Standing on her toes, Lenkala brushed her lips over Cole's. 'Thank you.' Tearing herself away, Lenkala hurried back inside. When she glanced back to the pavilion, Cole still stood there, rooted to the spot, his fingertips on his lips.


	15. Purgatory

Chapter 15

Purgatory

Eyes glued shut, the unpleasant feeling of a thousand needles piercing his skin … slowly turning into fire running up and down his body, everywhere, merciless. A groan escaped Fenris's lips and he tried to sit up.

Someone held him down with very little effort. 'No, don't do that. Stay.' The voice was soothing, kind even. 'You're all right. Just need time.' The hands keeping him on his bed were actually not hands but fingers, placed between the lyrium lines, careful not to touch them. He forced his eyes open. There was visible concern on Dorian's face.

Fenris wanted to shove the man away, but he didn't have the strength. 'You are alive,' he said instead.

'Yes, indeed. Thanks to you. That thing you pulled out of me, by the way, had started to grow. I … don't know how to thank you, Fenris.'

'Don't.' Unable to keep his eyes open, he allowed them to close. 'I … wonder if there is something that can be done about the pain.' He wasn't someone who usually complained about discomfort, but this … Every single line of lyrium in his skin was firing. He'd had that before, occasionally. Danarius had done something to them once in a while to stop the pain … but he didn't know what. That aside, compared to what he felt now, that occasional discomfort was nothing.

'I tried to read about these … markings. Not that there is much available, seeing how you're rather unique. But I guess they generally hurt when touched?' Fenris grunted agreement. He really didn't want to discuss this with anyone, let alone a Tevinter mage. 'So for that general pain I think I can work something out, if you are willing to let me. For what you are going through now … I don't think so.' He turned his head away, torn between disappointment and relief that the mage wasn't going to cast anything on him. 'I … might even be able to free you of your lyrium. But that would take a lot of time and careful testing … and it could go horribly wrong, I suppose.'

The words, their delivery, all of it, cut through Fenris's mind like a blade. 'I am not your experiment, magister!' He managed to sit up now, but his head swam and he might have fallen off the bed if it hadn't been for Dorian's fast reaction.

The mage drew a sharp breath when he caught him, his own injury apparently protesting. 'Fenris, please calm down. I wasn't saying … I shouldn't … Stop struggling, you're only succeeding in hurting yourself. I won't do anything you don't want!'

'Liar! You're all the same.'

'I am _not_ a magister. And I've been disowned because I'm not like the rest of them.'

Fenris was going to retort, but then he frowned. 'What?'

'Oh, I could get back in my family's good graces, but I don't think I'll ever be willing to make the necessary sacrifices.'

'And here I thought it was because you had convictions that contradicted the Imperium. I see that it's really just narcissism. Figures.'

Dorian let go of him when it became clear he wasn't going to fight anymore. 'Call it what you will. You need to recover. When you have, I think Varric has more red lyrium for us to get rid of.'

'One would think you're done.'

'One would think so are you.'

'I didn't say I'd come.'

'You didn't say you wouldn't.'

Fenris had to fight the smile that tried to sneak onto his face. He must have been drugged by the healers. 'I might. For Varric.'

'I'll leave you for now. But I'll be back.'

'I feared as much.'

'If there is anything you want …'

'Peace and quiet.'

Dorian inclined his head. 'And you'll have it. I meant what I said. I … wouldn't try to coax you into anything you don't wish.'

The strangest part was that Fenris believed him. Oh, sure, Dorian's interest to help him was at least in part scientific. But he was nothing like Danarius. Not truly. Dorian's gratitude seemed as genuine as his compassion. Neither was expected, and Fenris found that neither should be welcome. This man was everything he hated, he was the enemy. And yet … 'I might … in fact want to know how you propose to stop the pain. Eventually. But I want to keep the markings. They are my strongest weapon.'

'Indeed.' Dorian seemed to want to pat his shoulder but thought better of it. 'I'll be back, Fenris. I don't forget people who save my life.'

Ϡ

Cole knew that Rhys would come to check on him, and he was honestly worried. The mage had seen his less than perfect control, he must think Cole was slipping. The worst part was that Cole himself thought he might be slipping. He couldn't hurt anyone, he had to be stopped … by someone else, if he himself wasn't able.

When Rhys came, he had to force himself not to fidget. He wanted to say something but couldn't think of anything and remained silent, letting Rhys look at his eyes, pinch the skin on the back of his hand, and cast some sort of spell he couldn't even feel. 'Well … physically, you're better. But you're not kidding me. What's wrong?'

'I am tired.'

The disappointment on Rhys's face ached. 'Yes, you would be. But that's not what I meant, and you know it. I thought you trust me.'

He swallowed and turned away. Another thing he felt guilt about: hurting Rhys. 'I … Rhys, I … You should go. I'm not worth it.'

'Hey.' A gentle hand on his shoulder turned him back around. 'Hey, Cole. Don't ever say that again. Better yet, don't even think it. Now please talk to me, my friend.'

Cole sat on his bed and hid his face behind his hands. 'I think I am dangerous.' He could hardly hear the words himself, but Rhys had heard. The mage sighed and sat next to him, putting an arm around his shoulders. The touch gave him comfort and he leaned in, realising how much he had missed Rhys.

The mage's voice was soft when he answered, little more than a whisper. 'Yes, Cole, you are dangerous. So am I. So is Evangeline. Everyone has the potential to be dangerous. But people generally control their baser emotions.'

'I shouldn't have to! I never had to.'

'Ah … the joys of being human. Cole, you remember Pharamond, I take it?'

Of course he did. 'That was different. He didn't threaten anyone!'

'No. But he had no control. He went from crying to laughing and back at the smallest input. For Pharamond it was so difficult because he'd been Tranquil most of his rather long life. You are so young, Cole, it will be easy for you to adapt, even if it doesn't seem that way right now. You were a spirit before, the embodiment of one emotion. Now you're getting the entire array of a human to deal with. You're holding up the way you are because you've sensed others like that for a long time, you learned what these emotions do, even though they weren't your own. The only thing that is new for you is experiencing them yourself. All of them, including those that are the essence of demons. Rage. Fear. Despair. Hunger. Desire. But they're not all you feel. You're still gentle and compassionate. You're still you, Cole. And that you are human means you always will be. You will never be a demon. And knowing you, I daresay you will never be a bad man.'

Cole looked at Rhys, still uncertain. 'But … I wanted to hurt Fenris. I truly wanted to.'

'Because you care about Dorian, and Fenris was willing to let him die. It gets easier, Cole. Every human being goes through it, you just have to do it now rather than as a kid. You're doing great. Maybe you wanted to hurt Fenris, but the important thing is that you didn't do it. And even if Dorian had died, I do believe that you'd have known hurting Fenris in turn is wrong.'

'The Nightmare in the Fade said we're alike. He was right. What I did was the same. I took Fenris's greatest fear and used it against him.'

'No.' Rhys's voice was infinitely patient and full of conviction. 'You just used words, not mind control to make Fenris fear for his life. Or his freedom, as it were. There's a huge difference.'

'I … also … Rhys, I don't know how to say this.'

'Straight forward seems to work often, Cole.'

'You said something else, too. I … earlier today, I felt …' He faltered, unable to say the word, to invoke the name of a demon. But his sudden shifting away slightly the colouring of his face, the way he licked his lips gave him away.

Rhys chuckled. 'Desire, Cole? It's not necessarily a bad thing. It can be, without control. If you are spurned, would you still act on your desire?'

Cole tilted his head. 'I don't understand.'

Rhys smile widened. 'Here you are, a brilliant mind, but so benevolent you don't even know what I implied because the concept is absolutely foreign to you. Would you take the one you want if she rejects you? Rape her?'

Cole was on his feet, staring at Rhys as if he were a stranger. 'No! Why would you even ask? I could never … I wouldn't hurt her! Not at all and never like that!'

Rhys laughed, adding to Cole's dismay and irritation. 'What exactly are you afraid of, Cole? You care about her. And you want her, too. I want Angie, but I'm not possessed. It's human. You're fully entitled to have wet dreams about the Inquisitor. I bet you she has them about you, too.'

Cole felt his cheeks go hot. He shouldn't want to think of Lenka that way … But he couldn't stop it. The images in his head were hard to force away, and with Rhys evoking them it was even more difficult. 'I love her.' And it was true. He did. He wasn't sure if she would believe him, but the simple fact of the matter was that while lust played into it, it wasn't what drove him. 'She's scared … to be hurt.'

'She's Dalish, Cole. Be patient with her.'

Nodding, Cole sat back down. 'I am. I need to convince her that I won't hurt her. How do I do that?'

Rhys patted his shoulder. 'Be yourself. She seems to like that. I believe what Lavellan needs to know is that her sacrificing the possibility to return to any Dalish clan ever again is actually worth it. It's easy to say you love someone.'

'In the White Spire, one man said it seven times. To seven different women.'

'Exactly what I mean. Be certain.'

'I am.'

'Good. Next ask yourself why and then tell her. And speaking of desire … It comes from your love for her. That's the important thing. You don't just want to bed her because she's beautiful. You care. And you care so much that you want to express that physically.'

'How is Dorian?'

'He's all right. He's been talking to Fenris earlier. They were both quite civil, so I left before they heard me. You did a good thing there, Cole.'

Ϡ

Zevran dodged one attack, only to feel the blunt weapon impact on his shins. He'd clearly underestimated the sheer speed of his opponent. 'Ah, but you do go after your father. I yield!'

Darya let out a triumphant whoop, but sobered quickly. 'I want to fight like him. Not just play.'

Zevran had learned long ago that Darya, despite her young age, knew exactly what she wanted, so he didn't dismiss that request. 'I cannot teach you that. I'm not a warrior.' He sat down on one of the benches surrounding the training area, one leg tucked under him and turned to look at the girl next to him. She was tall for her age, gangly and powerful. She could climb a rope without using her legs, which was unusual for a mage.

'Daddy said you taught him.'

'The basics of sword fighting. Yes. But the finer techniques he learned from Justice. I cannot train you to be a warrior.'

'I know. But I don't even know basics.'

'You're fast enough to learn real fighting, if you truly want to.' He didn't need to ask Jowan or Leliana for permission. They wouldn't object. 'But if that is what we do now, then you can't say you want to skip a lesson. We have to do this every day, and one day I won't be able to keep teaching you. We'll find someone else, though. A warrior.'

'Blackwall!'

Zevran chuckled and ruffled her hair. 'Well, there's a chance he'll come back to Vigil's Keep with us eventually, so that sounds reasonable.'

'Can we start now?'

'You're already tired now. Tomorrow, right after breakfast. Here. Don't be late.' He expected a cheer, or at least some reaction. But Darya had frozen, as if what she'd wanted to say had suddenly fled her mind, eyes fixed on nothing. 'Darya? Darya!' Zevran slipped to the ground, kneeling in front of her. He took her face in his hands, trying to get a reaction. None came, and he patted her cheek lightly, still to no avail. With nothing else to do, he scooped the girl into his arms and considered if he should run to Jowan or the infirmary. He decided on the latter, using the time it took him to get there to consider what poisons could cause her to zone out like that.

He found no answer, but it didn't seem as if he had to. The moment he crashed inside, she blinked. The confusion of being elsewhere and his palpable alarm brought tears to her eyes, and Zevran set her down, waving the first approaching healer away. 'Hello. Welcome back.' He tried to sound confident and seemed to succeed, because she calmed quickly. 'You just had a moment of … I'm not sure what. I don't assume you remember how you got here?'

Darya looked left and right as if checking if anyone was present. 'I wasn't here. I was in a strange place in the woods. In a hut. I was talking to someone.'

This sounded awfully familiar. Before he had taken his life, Alistair had heard voices, channelling Darya as he would have an Archdemon. But technically, Darya _was_ an Old God, and she certainly was not a Grey Warden. Whom would she channel? 'What did you say?'

'I don't remember … It's as if it happened ages ago.' She looked at him with such worry he wanted to hug her. 'Am I dying, Uncle Zev?'

He did hug her then. 'You're not dying. I've heard more terrifying things than that.'

Darya looked slightly incredulous. 'Like what?'

'Like being trapped in a magical cage by monsters. Like being bitten by a werewolf and having your mind go. Like having all you are, all that makes you a person being taken from you, turning you into a shell. You know people who are very alive after going through that. Cullen was taken captive by a powerful abomination. Núria was under a curse, but we lifted it in time. And your daddy … well, he was once Tranquil.' Now Jowan might object to that revelation, but in the end, it wasn't a secret.

'Why didn't he want me to become Tranquil when I asked, then?'

'Because he knows it's a horrible fate and it was forced on him. Darya, it's not an option.'

'But what if this moment now means I am possessed?'

'Then we'll undo it. Jowan's done that, too. With a child about your age, no less.'

'What didn't you all do?'

Zevran laughed. 'I'll tell you what we didn't do: Give up. You want to learn from us? Learn that. And tell Jowan that I think it's time we all level with you here. Greagoir thought you're old enough for the Harrowing … I say you're old enough for the truth. All of it. I think he agrees. But first, we'll have a chat with the healers. All right?'

She nodded solemnly. 'All right.'

* * *

><p><em>((Here's the deal. I don't know how old Connor is in Origins because it's never said. I also don't know exactly how old Darya is (although that is still something I need to correct in the end of <em>Saving Us_ where she's made to sound older than she can be) and I don't want to give a precise age lest I mess that up. So yeah … not going to happen. But they should be roughly the same, no?))_


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